Partners
by Midorima Kazunari
Summary: This is the story of Midorima and Takao beginning in their second year of high school. Chapter 33 - Midorima and Takao spend a final night together before Midorima leaves for NY. Chapter 34 - Midorima's first hours in NY.
1. Chapter 1

POV Takao

My partner and best friend, Midorima Shintarō, was anything but frivolous, so when he asked me if I owned a yukata, I figured it was simply a question about his daily luck item.

"No, I've never needed one, but I guess I should get one with the cultural festival coming up. How did I get roped into helping with that again?"

"Because you have an unreasonable need to be liked by our fellow students and you are incapable of saying no," Shin-chan answered my rhetorical question.

I didn't need to change my shoes yet, but I always made a point of checking my locker first thing for notes. This morning there was a slip of paper from the student council president reminding me that my attendance at the festival planning meeting was not optional.

"Oh yeah," I chuckled, "And speaking of which, I'm late for this morning's planning meeting because someone was late."

"Oha Asa predicted it would be so. That horoscope is never wrong. Be prepared for a day of very poor timing. Your compatibility with Libras will be extremely poor."

"Aw, Shin-chan, you listened to my horoscope as well?" I teased.

"When Scorpio is mentioned in relation to Cancer, I find it necessary to prepare for all contingencies," he huffed as cleaned trash out of his locker and arranged his shoes.

"Any chance you have my lucky item to combat all this bad luck?" I asked.

"Don't pretend you believe in Oha Asa so suddenly," he snapped.

"I believe in Shin-chan," I said. "That should be enough." He cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up his nose. I sighed, slamming my locker harder than I meant and watched as my partner flinched a little.

"See you in class, probably late, if your Oha Asa is right," I said with a smile.

After the festival meeting was over, I headed back to the lockers to change out of my sneakers and found a slightly browned four leaf clover sealed in plastic stuck in the heel of my indoor shoes.

"Oh, Shin-chan, my dear sweet tsundere, maybe today won't be so bad after all."

* * *

For the third day in a row, practice had to be skipped for the festival meeting and while it was an excused absence, it hadn't made my teammates any less unhappy. Three days without a proper training menu and I felt seriously stiff and slow.

Shin-chan, freshly showered after practice, was waiting on me when I finally emerged from the meeting with an unreasonable amount of papers I had to read and approve in a super short amount of time.

"Kill me now," I sighed, and stuffed the whole lot into my bag.

"Nonsense, it would take too long to break in another partner," he dismissed.

"I'm not pulling you in the rain," I said as I stood at the front door and opened my umbrella. "You'll just have to walk today."

"If you waste as much time lamenting your festival assignments as you do in saying obvious things, it is no wonder you are having a difficult time meeting your deadline. I have never once expected you to pull me in the rain. I'm only a monster on the court."

"Sorry, sorry. This festival planning is completely out of my comfort zone."

"You should remember that the next time you take on extra-curricular activities."

We walked home in quiet, me preoccupied in thoughts of approving forms, and Shin-chan in his naturally occurring silence. As we reached his front gate, I mumbled a half-hearted farewell, not even expecting him to acknowledge me, so when he asked me to wait a moment, I hardly heard the end of his sentence, "…I have something for you."

The wind picked up as he walked inside and in seconds the back of my jacket was soaked through.

"You could have asked me inside to wait," I muttered at the closed door. One minute went by and then another, and my uniform was soaked from shoulders to ankles. He appeared at the door, his jacket discarded, carrying a large shopping bag.

"Baka," he said as he saw me shivering in the rain. "Why did you not at least come up under the eaves?"

I sighed and pushed the gate open and joined him under the shelter. He handed me a scroll tied carefully with a ribbon. I left the open umbrella to the side and read the invitation.

You are cordially invited…

"Your father's birthday celebration?" I asked as I continued to read. "But I told you I don't own a yukata."

"Thus the bag," he said. "The colors should be complimentary to you."

"Shin-chan, not that I…I'm not even sure where to begin."

"Yes, yes, no need for thanks. I would prefer you arrive earlier than the scheduled beginning time – say forty-five minutes – my parents would like to formally meet you before my brothers and sisters and their families arrive."

"Who else have you invited?" I asked, as he crossed his arms and looked over my right shoulder, avoiding eye contact.

"The guest list is small by Midorima family tradition. Only our immediate family will be present."

"Then, I will pass, I can't intrude," I answered, holding out the invitation.

"Don't be foolish. My family has been anxious to meet you for months. Oha Asa said that today was the perfect day to ask you; you should have no objections."

"Why would they want to meet me?" I asked, shivering and looking down at my feet.

"Why wouldn't they want to meet my boyfriend?" he asked and my head snapped up.

"Your what?" I asked, my jaw falling open. I blinked hard a few times.

Shin-chan cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up with taped fingertips, but that nervous movement didn't hide the peach flush to his normally pale cheeks.

"Have I misread the situation?" he asked, his voice a monotone.

"Um…" I gapped.

"Why else would you put up with me? Follow me around? Go to such lengths to exceed my ridiculous demands?"

"I thought," I stuttered, "I was courting you. I'd planned to ask you out many times, but I chickened out each time because our compatibility was bad on those days according to Oha Asa."

His eyes flashed behind his glasses and suddenly the full bore of his emerald gaze held my eyes.

"I…I…," his tongue seemed stuck in his mouth.

"How did we both get this so wrong?" I asked. "If I had known we were officially a couple, I wouldn't have moved so slowly."

"I should have known you weren't simply respecting my pace," he said.

"So, if I'm meeting your parents, does that mean we can hold hands on the way to school tomorrow? Or would that throw off your pace?"

"What? Yes, of course we can. Wait, I'm confused. These last few months, since Winter Cup, how did I misjudge the situation so completely?" he asked with a wounded look which I knew was the complete opposite of the goofy grin that split my face.

"How was I to know unless you confessed your feelings, Shin-chan?" I teased. "Everyone knows it's not official until there is a confession." I continued to enjoy the unusually ruffled and insecure look on his face. "But I will gladly meet your family as your boyfriend if you confess now." If he hadn't been so out of sorts, he would have processed my earlier confession and my eagerness to be his.

His left eye twitched behind his lenses and then both eyes closed. He took a deep breath.

"I will do some research and make sure to do so properly before Saturday night."

"Shin-chan," I sighed. "Don't over think this. Just tell me how you feel."

"That's it?" he asked. I nodded.

He turned away for a second, collecting his thoughts. He took my right hand in his left and held it flat against his chest.

"Do you feel it beating?" he asked, and I pressed harder against his firm muscles and felt the smooth, steady beat of his heart. "When we are apart, my heart races unsteadily. When I am with you, it is at peace. Even my heart acknowledges you are its master."

"Whoa," I exhaled.

"You know I am inept in social situations. You shouldn't have expected anything better," he huffed.

"No, Shin-chan, that was perfect," I smiled up at him.

"Then you will join me next Saturday night," he said, shoving the bag into my stomach. "You should go home and dry off before you come down with a cold."

"Ok, Shin-chan," I laughed, letting my hand fall down his chest. He went back inside and I choked down the scream of joy that bubbled into my mouth.

* * *

The festival business wasn't even on my radar as I skipped up the steps of our apartment and let myself in. Yukina was watching anime in the living room, a plate of snacks on the table in front of her.

"Guess what?" I said as I threw my arm around her neck and kissed the back of her head.

"Ugh," she squirmed free. "If it's another Shin-chan was so cute story, I'm gonna barf."

"Don't be so jaded. Middle schoolers should have more faith," I said. "Besides, this is the best day ever. Shin-chan –" her groan only slowed me down for a beat, "– confessed to me today. I am now in a real relationship with the guy I've been obsessed with for years. You can congratulate me any time now. Oh, he bought me a gift. Wanna see?" I asked, holding up the white bag with the distinctive blue sides and multi-colored stripe down the center.

"Mitsukoshi! No way," she shouted, "Show me, show me now!"

I pulled out the tissue paper and then the red pouch embossed with the store's name in gold foil. The entire package was held closed with a matching golden ribbon. I pulled the ribbon free and Yukina stole it. I took a deep breath and bit my lip as I unfolded the wrapping. The yukata was made of plain, soft sapphire blue cotton. Along the bottom, in a complimentary slate gray outlined in black, birds swooped among chrysanthemums.

"It matches your eyes perfectly," Yukina squealed. "Look, hawks!"

"It's awesome, Shin-chan," I said.

"Try it on," Yukina pushed me off the couch. I stripped out of my wet jacket and was about to put in on when we both heard a bang from downstairs. A slow, plodding footstep treaded heavily up the stairs. I grabbed everything and shoved it into the bag while Yukina turned off the TV and fled into the bedroom with the snacks. I was right behind her, closing that door just as I heard the front one slam open.

"I'm back," slurred the voice in the living room.

* * *

Thanks to my Beta Reader - Sara


	2. Chapter 2

POV Takao

"What would be a good gift for your father?" I asked as we ate lunch on the rooftop of the school on Saturday morning. Shin-chan's bento, as usual, looked like it had been professionally made. My convenience store rice ball had been discounted because it was a day old. It was super sticky, but it didn't smell bad and I ate it so quickly I hardly tasted it. Shin-chan finished the last bite of his lunch and wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin before he deigned to answer me.

"I've already taken care of the present we will give him. My father is a retired physician and he collects anatomical displays. I found a suitable spleen, in cross-section, at an antique store while searching for my lucky item a week ago. I bought it immediately."

"How much do I owe you? We should go halves."

"No need, it was inexpensive, but he will be delighted."

Once Shin-chan had decided, I knew I couldn't convince him otherwise, so I changed the topic.

"Wait, retired? How old is your father?"

"Sixty-one. My mother calls me their 'happy accident'," he frowned. "I blame their old sperm and egg for my more peculiar habits." I almost choked on my soda as I laughed.

"Then what about your little sister? She must have been like – wow, surprise!"

"Kaori is actually my second brother's illegitimate daughter. My parents adopted her to save Shuhei's marriage and keep her in the family."

"Oh," I said, feeling rather stupid that I didn't know.

"My eldest brother, Sasuke, graduated college the year I was born. Shuhei dropped out of school at sixteen and moved in with a much older woman, whom he eventually married. My sister, Kagome, went away to college when I was three. I was essentially an only child until Kaori arrived in my second year of middle school. You will meet them all and their hordes of children tonight."

"Speaking of which, I've been practicing sitting on my knees so I don't embarrass you at dinner," I told him proudly.

"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped. "You can sit crossed-legged, we are an old family, not yakuza."

* * *

Yukina tried to convince me to wear barrettes in my hair, but I resisted until she gave up with a pout. Still, she helped me into the yukata and made sure it hung right.

"Oh, Kazu, you look so handsome," my mother said as I walked out into the living room. "Do you have a gift?" she asked when I failed to answer.

"Shin-chan took care of it."

Mom smiled as she finished putting on her Maji Burger uniform and gathered up her keys and cellphone.

"I'm glad he makes you happy, Kazu. You deserve a little happiness, we all do, right Yukina?"

"At least now when he drones on and on about Shin-chan, I won't have to feel sorry for him anymore," my kid sister wiped a pretend tear from her face.

"Yeah, yeah, brat, don't get all emotional on me. I might just cry."

* * *

Shin-chan was at the front gate when I arrived, forty-five minutes early. In contrast to my awkward wearing of my new yukata, he looked like a model out of a magazine. His stunning emerald and cream robe fell open to show off the sexy lines of his collarbones. I wondered what it would taste like if I bit him there. He nodded when he saw me.

"I appreciate your punctuality."

"Of course. It is important to make a good first impression."

"Follow me," he said and didn't wait for a response. I wasn't surprise by the traditional décor. We went through the living room, which had a long table decorated for the party, and through to the garden at the center of the house.

"Dad," Shin-chan called out with a small hesitation in his normally unflappable bass voice to the man bent low over the koi pond .

"Shintarō, do you know where the –" the man turned and stopped as he saw us standing side by side. A huge smile spread across his face and up into his emerald eyes. He took his glasses off his head and perched them on his nose, pushing them up with his index finger.

Shin-chan took my hand and said, "This is my Takao Kazunari."

I bowed deeply, but kept my fingers intertwined with Shin-chan's.

"Midorima-sensei, it is a pleasure –"

"No, no, no, that won't do at all," his father said and in three long strides he was in front of me, pulling me up by the shoulders until I was standing. He threw both arms around me. "You will call me Nobuo, Dad or Father, or something like that. None of this sensei stuff. I am retired and proud to be very lazy. What shall I call you? Takao-kun maybe?"

"Yes, sir, whatever you like."

He clapped my shoulders and smiled again.

"You've made our grumpy Shintarō happy. This family owes you a deep debt. And I have to apologize, Shintarō talks about you all the time, so I feel like we already know you."

"Dad, don't say such embarrassing things."

"If you're embarrassed by this, what will you do when Mom brings out the baby pictures?" Midorima senior wink at me. "Mother dear," he called in a voice that reverberated across the house, "get the photos ready. We are on the way."

* * *

Shin-chan obviously got his height from his mother. She was a tall, spindly woman with a large bosom and wide hips that were accentuated, rather than minimized, by her baby pink kimono. Her sleek black hair was held tight against her scalp in a ponytail and a pretty gemstone barrette held her bangs back from her face.

When she saw us, hand in hand, the crinkle lines around her eyes and mouth became pronounced, as if laughter and smiles were the most natural emotions to her.

"What an adorable couple," she cooed. "Takao-kun, thank you for coming. Will you sit with us so I can embarrass my youngest son with many stories?"

"Mom," Shin-chan sulked in a controlled monotone before sitting down on one of the blue cushions around the small square table. "I am betrayed. I can't believe you will do this with me as well."

"It's not every day a mother is introduced to her future son-in-law. Let me have my fun, this will be my last chance."

I blushed, feeling the heat creep up my neck and flood up into my hair.

"Takao is clearly uncomfortable with such insinuations."

"No," I whispered, "it's ok. It makes me happy."

Shin-chan huffed, but didn't protest when his mother pulled on my arm to bring me next to her. She opened the album and turned to the first page.

* * *

At dinner, I was seated between Shin-chan and Kaori, with their mother at the end of the table. Across from us sat Shuhei and his family of four. Between them and the guest of honor, sat Kagome and her husband. On the other side of Shin-chan, Sasuke sat with his three children.

"Wow, you've got a huge family," I leaned in and whispered.

"Claustrophobically large," he muttered.

His mother came around with cups and bottles of sake, leaving one bottle per couple. The wives poured for their husbands and while I tried to think of some excuse not to drink, Shin-chan poured for us. His cup held only a sip and he filled mine.

"I don't drink," I protested.

"It is a traditional toast. Just wet your lips and leave the rest," he instructed as he splashed half of my cup into his own.

"I've never seen Shintarō so relaxed. They are super cute," I heard Kagome gush.

* * *

"When will I meet your family?" Shin-chan asked. We were reclined on the porch outside of his bedroom window, our heads positioned so we could observe the stars. His bedroom door was open and we could hear the sounds of his nieces and nephews as they ran through the house, shouting as they played.

"You've met my sister," I reminded.

"Yes, before the Winter Cup our first year. She and my sister are of like age. Perhaps we should introduce them, maybe do an amusement park trip during our next vacation."

"That could be fun."

"Hand me a soup," he said and I rolled over to the stack of cans built into a pyramid of soup. I popped the can and handed it over. He sat up on his elbow to sip from the room temperature beverage without looking at me.

"You don't want me to meet your parents," he said. It wasn't a question.

"It's just difficult. My mother works two jobs. We could go to one of the restaurants during her shifts. I could find out her schedule for next week."

"And your father?"

"Yeah, well, that will be harder."

"Would he disapprove of our relationship? You are his heir after all."

"I don't know," I said and rolled to my feet. I walked barefoot into the grass and went far enough out into the dark that I felt my face might be obscured by the lack of light.

"My father is an alcoholic," I admitted. Not liking the hitch in my voice, I tried to make it more of a joke. "He was home just last week, but I think he's in jail again. I'm not sure what the visitation policy is for non-family members." My jest sounded so fake in my own ears that I knew it hadn't fooled Shin-chan.

Suddenly, I felt a monolith of strong muscles and warm skin wrapped around me from behind. His chin rested heavily on the top of my head.

"I'd like to meet your mother soon, so check the schedule and let me know when. I'll treat you."

* * *

Grazie to my Beta Reader Sara!


	3. Chapter 3

POV Midorima

There are a handful of times, in my entire life, that I can genuinely say that I am grateful for my height outside of the basketball court. Right now, I can number them on a single hand with remainders.

The first time will always linked forever in my mind with Takao. With my arms wrapped around him from behind and my chin resting on his head, we'd both pretended he hadn't been crying. For the thousandth time in the last few hours, I chant his name under my breath as a mantra to ward off my own tears. And now, right now, as the doctors stand between Kaori and my parents and they strain to keep her in sight, I am again grateful to tower over the situation and not lose sight of my sister's face.

"Keiko," Dad says my mom's name, but I don't hear the rest of his statement. The doctors consult while I glare at them, willing them to work harder, to do more, or to make something miraculous happen. Unexpectedly, and for the first time in my life, I do not want to follow my father's footstep and become a doctor. Medicine is too difficult, there are rules I do not understand. Basketball is simple and I visualize three-pointers, and for a moment the stifling pressure in my head vanishes.

"Shintarō," Dad says and puts his hand on my arm to make sure he has my attention.

"Yes?"

"Here is some money, go to the vending machine and bring me back a Boss Coffee. Keiko, what do you want?"

"Anything, no, tea," she says.

"Buy yourself some red bean soup."

"I'm not hungry," I say, even though my stomach is so empty it aches.

"I don't care if you're hungry, you haven't moved from that spot in four hours. Get your mother some tea and stretch your legs. That's an order, son."

I force back a snide, acidic comment and take the handful of coins.

"Nobuo, was that necessary?" Mom asks as I take one long last look at my sister's still form and push away from the window.

* * *

He is right, of course, I have not moved in so long that my knees are stiff and my feet are numb. It is close to six in the morning and I hadn't eaten dinner, we hadn't eaten dinner. I cannot remember if took my pills last night. If I take my next dose now, earlier than usual, I will be fine the rest of the day, hopefully. I stop at the water fountain and swallow the two small pills from the emergency stash in my key chain fob. How old are they? Will they still be effective?

I should text Takao to tell him what is going on. I should do that before he walks to my house and finds it empty. He will worry, but I cannot make myself do something so mundane right now. I purchase three cans from the vending machine and go straight back to the room. Kaori's bed is empty.

"What happened?"

"The doctors took her into surgery. She was…" my mom begins.

"She was what?" I demand.

"She was in distress," Dad finishes.

I shove the coffee at my dad, the tea at my mom, and then drink my soup to cushion the medication I have already tossed down there.

* * *

Dad sends me away again. He is right of course, he always is when it comes to my disorders. I feel better with a basketball in my hand. The thump of the leather against wood, the gritty textures as I turn the ball in my hands, the almost silent whoosh as it falls gracefully, naturally through the rim. I am 20 for 20 even though my hands tremble with the lingering effects of withdrawal, there is no question in my mind that I missed last night's pills. It feels like a hummingbird has taken up residence in my chest; my heart beats so fast my vision blurs.

I clear my mind; it is me and the ball and the court around me. I dismiss the sound of running feet and the crash the gym doors make when they slam open; my arc is perfect and the ball seems unaffected by gravity. I watch and count, three, four, five, six heart beats and then it connects. No wonder my opponents say that the psychological effect of my shots are worse than the points they score.

"Shin-chan?" Takao says from behind me. I turn, needing to see that proud, cocky grin he wears while he watches me, but instead there is concern in those slate gray orbs. I should not be surprised; nothing is hidden from his hawk's eye.

All it takes is that one word – my name – and the emotional charge of hearing it come from his lips, and I feel tears flow down my cheeks. I crumple to my knees and before I register that he's moved, he's in front of me. I pull him forward and bury my face in his stomach.

"Whatever is wrong," he says "we'll get through it together."

Even with my nose pressed against his abdomen, there seems like there is an impossibly wide chasm between us and I wrap my arms around him, clawing my way up his back.

"Let it all out," he says and I feel his right hand in my hair, petting, caressing in a way no one, not even my mom, has dared to do. I can't scream, not even here in the safety of his arms. The voices in my head are shouting at me to be quiet, to pull myself together, to be a man in front of Takao, and to stop sniveling.

"I love you, Shin-chan," Takao says, and for an instant those voices are drowned out.

I sob until the front of his uniform is soaked through with my tears and snot. His left hand grips my shoulder tightly as I begin to hyperventilate.

"I won't let you go, not for anything, never," he promises, and the wings of the little bird relax, the tears slow, and my lungs finally find enough air to inflate. I release my death grip on Takao's back, but I don't move away.

"When you're ready, I'll listen," he offers.

I turn my head to the side and lay my left ear against his belly. I can't feel his heartbeat, but I can tell by the noises I hear that he hasn't eaten a proper breakfast again.

"Kaori," I whisper, but we both hear my voice break over her name. He tenses, but stays quiet. "She was hit by a car."

His draws air through teeth, a hissing, pained sound.

"Why are you here?" he asks.

"Dad said I needed my routine, but what I need is you," I say.

"You have me, always, I'm as close as a phone call."

"I know," I say, and finally I look up at him. He isn't smiling, but somehow the look of utter devotion he wears right now is almost enough.

He pulls back and kneels down where once again, I am taller, and he puts his head on my shoulder and his arms around my waist. He sighs against me.

"I think I may need to vomit," I say, ruining the moment.

"I'll hold your hair back."

* * *

"We're home," I announce as I slide the door open. Takao is right behind me, herding me like a dog. It is strange to enter the empty house. For seventeen years, Mom has never failed to welcome me. My home feels hostile and alien.

Takao changes into my father's slippers and encourages me to put on my own. I drop my bag by the door and almost, on instinct, put my cell phone on the table by the door, where the entire family plugs in at the end of the day, but I can't. It won't leave my side until I've heard.

"Call them," Takao says, misinterpreting my actions.

"They said they would call when there is news."

"Call them anyway."

I dial Dad's phone and he picks up on the third ring.

"She's out of surgery and doing well," he says before I even have the chance to ask. "She just came out. We'll be allowed to go back and wait with her in recovery soon."

"I'll come," I say.

"Not yet, stick to your routine and come after practice."

"I'm at home. Takao is with me."

"Let me speak to him," Dad says, and I hand the phone over without hesitation. All I can hear is Takao's side of the conversation. It mainly goes, yes, no, of course. He's nodding and looking at me while he speaks.

"I think you're right. He's dead on his feet. I'll try to get him to lie down for a few hours and then I'll come with him, if that's alright."

"Yes, sir, um, Otousan," he stutters over the word, so underused in his vocabulary. He hangs up without allowing me to say goodbye.

"Rest first, then we'll go together," he says to me.

Takao leads me to my bedroom and right now, that is probably a wise idea as I blunder after him. It has been almost thirty-six hours since I last slept. He slides my door open and then continues all the way through my room and opens the doors that lead to the outside. The breeze circulates and suddenly I feel a little less exhausted.

My futon is as I left it the night before, sheets and bedding strewn about. Takao tidies it, kneeling to one side.

"You will stay with me," I told him in an incredibly needy tone.

"Of course," he says, with the tiniest indication of a smirk on his lips.

* * *

Thanks to my Sara, my Beta Reader!


	4. Chapter 4

Warning - this chapter includes sexual situations. Don't read it if you are offended by this.

* * *

POV Takao

"I promised your dad that I'd make you get in bed and rest for at least two hours, so out of your uniform and into something comfortable, now," I ordered.

He scowled at me; the tone of voice had been a calculated risk, but I didn't relent and eventually, he began slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

"Are you going to stare at me?" he asked and some of the normal Shin-chan crept back into his voice.

"If I thought you'd actually do as you were told, I wouldn't have to," I challenged.

He only got as far as loosening all the buttons and revealing the pale skin below, before he sighed and collapse on top of the futon covers. He rested a arm on his forehead just above his glasses and turn his eyes toward the ceiling.

"Shin-chan…"

"I will lie here for exactly two hours and then I will get up and go to the hospital; your promise will be fulfilled." Again, once decided, he would not be deterred.

"Ok, Shin-chan," I smirked.

"Come," he snapped, "if you hover over me, I'll have no rest."

He never took his eyes off the ceiling as I carefully knelt beside him and then took a place about 15 centimeters to his right. I pillowed my head on my arm and turned on my side to face him, my knees bent just a little.

He made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat and turned his face toward mine.

"I invited you here, don't make me regret it," he told me. I reached out a hand and placed it on his ribs on the far side of his body. His skin was cold and he shivered a little at the contact. I pulled back, but he caught my hand and pushed it back onto his bared flesh. He continued to stare at me.

I touched my lips to his and as I pulled away I felt the tiniest hint of a response: our first kiss.

"Too much?" I asked, knowing that Shin-chan's pace was slower than most.

"Not enough," he breathed.

I moved in closer, pressing my chest against his side and put my hand on his jaw, tilting his head a little more in my direction. It was a needy, thrilling thing, our second kiss. I had an intense desire to shove my tongue in his mouth, but his lips were firmly closed and I didn't know how to encourage him to do more.

"Does this meet the spirit of your promise?" he asked as our mouths parted once again.

"You are lying down," I smirked and pushed his chin up so that I could lay a trail of kisses down his throat.

"You've done this before," he accused.

"Nope, but trust me, I've visualized this a thousand times."

"I can…tell," he sighed when I stopped to push aside his shirt to reach the intersection of his shoulder and collarbone. He fumbled at his clothing, trying to help me expose more flesh.

"Shut up, Shin-chan and let me do all the work," I suggested, batting his hands away. My tongue slid across the top of his pectoral muscles, lapping at his salty, metallic skin. He groaned when I put my lips to his right nipple and his left hand threaded into my hair. I traced his ribs with my hand, earning a most coveted chuckle. I kissed my way down to his bellybutton and looked up at him with half-closed eyes. Shin-chan had rearranged the pillow somehow so that his head titled down to watch me worship him with my mouth and tongue.

"Are you going to stare at me?" I echoed his earlier question with a wide grin.

"Do I have leave to speak again?" he sneered in reply.

"Only if you are relaxed," I told him.

"Ninety-nine percent of me is," he admitted, "but you've failed to account for the one percent."

"I've heard no complaints so far," I teased and then sucked on the point of his hip bone that was exposed above the waist of his pants.

"Admirable work," he acknowledge, "but…"

"But what, Shin-chan?" I asked, as I shifted a leg over his to straddle him.

"Takao?" he asked and a beautiful bloom of color spread out across his cheeks. I didn't ask, I simple undid the fly of his pants and pushed down the material of his underwear to expose his intimidatingly long penis.

"Don't do this," Shin-chan said, his voice all husky. My mouth dropped open and I gawked at him. "Unless you want this as much as I do," he said. "I will not permit this to be anything other than perfectly consensual."

"Oh, silly Shin-chan." I could have died from those words alone and done so happily, but instead I smiled and licked the 16 or so centimeters of rock hard flesh bouncing deliciously between his legs. As I slipped as much of him in my mouth as I could, I locked eyes with him. He moaned as I tried everything I'd ever read about and tried to gauge which brought him the most pleasure. He kicked, freeing himself from his pants and I guided his underwear off as well. There! The combo of tongue and teeth and suction arched his back and brought a strangled cry to his lips.

"Kazunari," he whispered, half-curse, half-prayer. He looped one knee over my shoulder, spreading his legs further apart and I pushed down as far as I could until he touched the back of my throat. I gagged but kept going as the bandaged fingers of his left hand stroked my cheek.

I cupped his balls, heavy and tight in my hand and rolled them gently. Seeing no reaction, I moved my hand south, exploring his flesh until his body clenched as my finger circled the warm tense opening between his butt cheeks. I retreated just a little and then circled again and Shin-chan's loose legs spread further apart. He pushed into the futon, lowering his back to the floor, and angled his hips upwards. Gasping for breath, I tried to slip him out of my mouth long enough to ask a question, but he urged my head back down with one large hand palming the back of my head.

"You don't need permission…to make me…feel…good." That last word was drawn out.

I hadn't swallowed in so long that drool was running down my chin, but I wiped my fingers in it and prayed it would be enough lubricant to make this work. As my finger slid into him, all those small encouraging noises he'd been muffling into the back of his hand went silent. He gasped once and came without warning. The geyser of thick warm fluid hit the back of my mouth and flooded every which way. I took what I could and pulled away choking.

"That was rude of me," Shin-chan pushed me into a sitting position and patted my back as I hocked milky fluid out of my nose.

"Was very good," I slurred. Shin-chan offered me a canned soup, which I used to swish out my mouth before swallowing away the last remains of him. He pulled off his shirt and used it to clean the mess from my face. When he was sure I was in no immediate distress, he fell back unto the covers, boneless and gorgeously naked. His whole body, from scalp to tips of his toes, was suffused in a contented peach glow.

"Think you can sleep now?" I taunted.

"Can't think at all," he murmured and smiled at me.

"I like that smile," I said and instead of hiding or denying it, he widened it.

"I like this pace," he said and grabbed my arm, pulling my down onto his chest.

"It's a good pace," I said and he readily opened his mouth as we kissed this time.

"Take off your clothes," he ordered as our lips came apart.

"You don't have to –"

"Don't make me repeated myself," he growled and began undoing the buttons of my shirt.

"I…"

"What?"

"Not every is as comfortable naked as you are," I said, eyes averted.

"We've been naked before each other countless times, Kazunari. Why is this any different?"

"You've always had your glasses off before."

He reached up and tore his glasses off and threw them across the room towards the kotatsu that doubled as his desk. Even for Shin-chan the action was extreme, but I liked the hungry, lustful, unfocused gaze and in seconds I was undressed and pressed up alongside of him. His heavily calloused hand explored every piece of skin he could reach: my back, my butt, my stomach and chest, as if he were a blind man memorizing the terrain. Kissing him was so damn easy, his tongue in my mouth, then mine in his, as easy as breathing in and out.

"Soft," he muttered as his fingers caressed the trail of hair that ran down the middle of my abs and down into the v of my legs. "Not so soft," he amended as he found what he'd been searching for.

"Of course not," I teased as he tightened his grip.

"What would you suggest I do to relieve some of this…tension?" he asked, his voice sultry as he moved kisses across my cheek to my ear.

"Anything," I sputtered as he tongue licked the inside of my ear.

"Anything isn't helpful, Kazunari," he purred. "I have no idea what I'm doing. How do we consummate this partnership?"

All the blood rushed from my head and I stopped breathing until he bit lightly on my earlobe. "Don't die on me, Kazunari. I refuse to train a new partner."

"My finger earlier, like that only…" I couldn't bring myself to say the words, but Shin-chan had always been a quick study. He rolled away for a second, searching for something with squinted eyes.

"This would go smoother if I wasn't blind," he groused and I saw how hard he was again. This was going to hurt, but he was worth it.

"Will this help?" he asked, finally finding what he'd been looking for. He tossed me a bottle of extra-moisturizing hand cream.

"Yeah," I breathed, thankful that he wasn't as ignorant as he claimed. He lay beside me and threw one leg over me.

"Be gentle with me," he said as he nibbled on the spot where my neck met my shoulder.

"What?"

"Your finger felt good, but I'm concerned that your penis is much large," he said. I put a hand on his chin and made him look at me. He squinted and came forward until his forehead rested on mine.

"I've decided," he said. "I want this, but that doesn't mean I'm not nervous as well."

"I thought you meant…" No, I stopped from saying I thought I would be the one split open, but if this is what he wanted, I had no desire to deny him. "Never mind. You are beautiful and wonderful and I don't deserve you."

"Hardly," he muttered and I kissed him as we rolled over so that he was under me.


	5. Chapter 5

Sexual situations continue from previous chapter. If you don't want to read that, but want to stick to the story, scroll down two gray lines.

* * *

POV Midorima

I can barely see past the tip of my nose and, if I have to go by visual cues alone, I'd think I am alone, but I can feel Takao's weight against my legs. For once, it isn't glib jokes on his tongue, but carefully crafted words of devotion and comfort. The bottle of lotion clicks open and he groans as his hand slicks his penis. I've have never regretted any action as much as tossing my glasses aside. I must make do with the sounds and my imagination.

"If it hurts, if you need me to stop –"

"Yes, yes," I sound impatient, and he laughs so hard he has to rest his head on my abdomen while he catches his breath. It is infectious and soon I can feel his head bouncing with the laughter racking my body.

When we are both calm again, my mind catches up with me.

"Is this wrong?" I ask. "Should I be having this much fun while my sister is in the hospital?"

"Don't," he says, his voice is so sure it makes me stop instantly. "Don't think, don't hesitate. Moments like this don't come every day, not for people like us."

I want to ask what he means by that, but his fingers are teasing me, relaxing me, massaging me so that I sink back and let my constantly whurring thoughts take a back seat to the pressure between my legs. He begins to push gently against me.

"Try to um, I don't know, relax as much as you can, Shin-chan."

"No," I bark.

"I don't want to hurt you, not like this."

"That's obvious, baka," I snap. "I meant don't call me Shin-chan. It's too 'cute' to be this intimate." I automatically reach up to adjust my glasses to hide my embarrassment, but of course they aren't there.

"What should I… oh," he says, his voice shuddering as he pushes through those excruciatingly tight muscles.

"Slowly," I hiss, as he continues deeper.

"Shintarō," he says my name as if testing it out. "Shintarō," he says again, "Should I wait here for a moment?"

"Yes," I pant, as the little I can see washes out white with the intensity. "Hips hurt," I grunt and he eases off the bruising force with which he grips me. He reaches down and strokes my spread wide flesh, but to do so he cants back at a new angle and it's not as painful as it was a second ago.

"That angle," I moan, "that's better." He sinks forward a little more until I can feel his hip bones grind against me. His hand moves from where we are joined to stroke my penis, but he does not move inside me. All the stimulation is too much for me and at the same time it's not enough.

I scoot back just a fraction and the friction is agony at first, but each time I move it is a little less painful. Takao's arm is quivering with the effort of holding himself upright and still. I lift my knees to give him some support and the angle changes again. He is even deeper and though it still hurts, I feel calm. His restraint is so gentle that it speaks louder than any words could.

"Move," I urge, and he does in an uneven pace.

"Give me your hand," I pull it away from my penis and he changes position to comply. Everything goes white again and in that movement I finally understand pleasure. I put his hand over my heart. I know it is a long reach from where he is, but I need him to feel my pace again.

"Ah," he says, and leaves his hand heavy on my chest until the rhythm of his hips matches that of my pulse.

It is a good thing we are alone in the house because when he comes, he is excessively noisy shouting my name, but he never breaks our pace. Even though he is dripping sweat onto my stomach, he stays inside of me and finishes me by hand. I hadn't even realized I could come again so soon, but this time is different, less urgent, more warm and comforting.

"I think I can sleep now," I yawn, and tug him into my arms.

* * *

POV Takao

When the phone rang at 4:12 pm, Shin-chan was still snuggled under my chin, his long limbs wrapped around me. The jarring ring tone didn't wake him, so I answered the call.

"Takao speaking," I said.

"Takao-kun," Shin-chan's father's voice comes from the other end, "Kaori is awake."

"I want Shintarō," Kaori whimpers in the background.

"She would very much like to see her brother and she insists that he bring her today's lucky item."

"Ok, we'll take care of it. Tell her I will get him there soon."

"Thank you Takao-kun, for taking such good care of our boy."

I almost said it was my pleasure, but I couldn't do that to the father or the son.

"You're welcome."

I closed the phone and poked Shin-chan in the shoulder until he opened one bright green eye.

"The brat demands her lucky item," I told him.

"She's awake?"

"Yes."

Shin-chan let out a shaky breath and rubbed his eyes. I handed him his glasses and he stumbled to his feet. He walked naked out of the room and down the hall. I was confused, but I took those moments alone to find my clothing scattered among his. I had my underwear and pants on when he returned with a printout.

"A blue stuffed bear is the Lucky Item for Libra today. I have one somewhere."

"Where?" I asked, gesturing to the sparse room. Other than a futon and a kotatsu, the only other piece of furniture was a long, low bookshelf crammed tight with all thirty-one volumes of the Slam Dunk manga and basketball magazines. Kise's face peeked out at us from one. Along the top sat a set of framed photos of each team Shin-chan had played on. My face smiled out at me from the centered frame. A series of three-inch resin dolls were interspersed among them.

"What's with the dolls?" I asked when he ignored my first question.

"Kaori buys them for my birthday. They are message dolls and she places within each a wish for my year to come," he said as he stood before the open closet door and contemplated what to wear. No lucky items peered back at him, only a rack of uniforms and shelves with neatly folded clothing. Where was he hiding the stuff? He pulled out a sleeveless gray t-shirt and black cargo pants. He forwent underwear and didn't comment on the fact that I was half naked and wasting time watching his reversed striptease. My shirt was wet and stained with drool.

"Eww," I pouted.

Shin-chan glanced over his shoulder. He flung a Shūtoku High Athletic Department t-shirt my way.

"Thanks," I said. Once it was over my head, our size difference was humorously evident. "Um, maybe I could borrow something of your father's?"

"Switch with me," he countered, and even after only wearing it for thirty seconds I could smell him on the shirt and feel his warmth. "That's a nasty bruise on your shoulder. You get that at practice?"

"Yeah," I lied and covered the action by dressing.

Shin-chan checked the time on his phone and retrieved a pill organizer from atop the kotatsu. He took out a set of pills and placed them inside a small container attached to his key chain. He loaded his pockets and then led me outside to a small shed behind the house.

"No one has ever see the inside, not even my parents. This is completely confidential," he said, so I nodded my solemn compliance.

He unlocked the door and turned on the light just inside. Plastic bins were stacked from floor to ceiling, all of them labeled in Shin-chan's neat handwriting. He went straight to the back corner.

"Which do you think?" he said opening a box and showing me two bears. I picked the one on the left because it was cuter.

"How long have you been collecting?" I asked.

"Since the second year of middle school," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose. "After the first six months, my mother banned Lucky Items from the house."

"That's a long time. So there are almost four years of lucky items in here?"

"No, anything that is edible or perishable has to be discarded," he said and switched off the light before I could pry any more.

* * *

POV Midorima

With the larger of the two blue Kuma bears under my left arm and Takao's hand in my right, we are half-way to the hospital before he finally asks the question I've been dreading since the day we met.

"Shin-chan?" he hesitates over my name.

"Yes."

"Do you mind if I ask a very personal question?"

"You can ask; I can't promise I will answer," I say. I can't look at him, even though I know he is staring intently at me.

"Fair enough. I just want to know about the pills you take. Should I be worried if you miss a dose? Should I carry a spare one of those key chain thingys for you? You know, I wanna be a good boyfriend and support you."

"I'm not dying, or no more than anyone our age," I admit. His fingers squeeze mine. He knows I'm hedging, but he shared the shame of his father's alcoholism with me and it is a question I promised my psychiatrist I would answer when Takao asks me. "I will only tell you, if you promise not to over-react."

"If you don't tell me, my imagination will probably just make up stories that are far worse than reality," he smirks.

"It will come as no surprise," I sigh, "that I have had Obsessive Compulsive Disorder my entire life. It is one form my depression takes. The most efficient treatment, at least in my case, has been a combination of anti-depressants and behavior modification therapy. Until I began playing basketball, my compulsions were much broader in scope, more debilitating. The other children were not understanding and at first I was nearly over-dosing on anti-depressants to simply get out of bed in the morning. Basketball became a form of therapy and with a greatly reduced dosage, I was able to function. That's my white pill."

Takao's grip on me did not diminish as I share the sordid details and his quiet attention, without interruption, made the telling easier.

"I have always been tall and awkward. Mostly I was ignored until I started playing basketball. When I became good, the bullying began in earnest. At the graduation ceremony right before middle school, my chief tormentor told me he'd also been accepted to Teiko and that he looked forward to telling everyone what a freak I was. I went home, greeted my mother, and went straight into the bathroom. I washed and slipped into the tub with my father's straight razor." I turn my right hand without letting go of Takao's so that he can see the inside of my wrist and the light scar that barely shows. "My mother found me. I spent all vacation in the hospital. My parents told Teiko what happened, and why, and my bully was expelled before the first day of school. The doctor's call it Social Anxiety Disorder. That's my blue pill."

The hospital main gate was a few meters up on the right.

"I wish I had known you back then," he says, bumping his shoulder against my arm.

"No, you don't," I say. He is the only person outside my immediate family who understands the nuances in my voice. He knows the conversation is closed and he doesn't push.

* * *

Takao is shy about entering Kaori's room, but when she calls out to both of our names and then cries, he is right behind me trying to comfort her. The bear quiets her down.

"You know that you don't need a Lucky Item," I tell her, just the same as Mom and Dad have told me every day for the last four years.

"I know," she smirks. It is not a habit she had before meeting Takao and his sister, but for now I will forgive her anything.


	6. Chapter 6

POV Midorima

My birthday will be exactly forty-two days after Kaori's release from the hospital, and already the week before she is walking unassisted again. I don't need any other present this year. I am running late, so when I approach the kitchen and hear my dad speaking to Takao, I am not surprised.

"I know you want to do something special for his birthday," my dad says, and I freeze, "but a surprise party isn't the way to go about it."

"Really?"

"Really. If you want to gather friends together, that's fine, but Shintarō needs to be in on the planning, especially the guest list, otherwise his Social Anxiety Disorder will make the whole event so uncomfortable that it won't be a good surprise."

"Ok," Takao sulks. "Maybe I'll just make him some of my family's traditional kimchi and make it a quiet celebration."

"Now that sounds more like my son."

It would be awkward if I were to walk into the kitchen at that moment, so I back up a few steps and visit the bathroom. It extends the amount of tardiness I am already suffering from. Oha Asa is accurate: "Cancers should expect trials today; if you depend on others, you will be able to make it through. A close friend or lover will have the perfect suggestion for making the week ahead a better one."

Takao has his bright smile on when I walk into the kitchen sixty seconds later.

"We're gonna be late, Shin-chan, how about we take the bus?" he asks. I will depend on him today and I will be ok.

* * *

"What do you want to do for your birthday this year, Shin-chan?" he asks as we sit side by side on the bus, his hand in mine.

"I haven't given it much thought," I say, even though it is the only topic bouncing around my head since hearing him and Dad plot this morning. I can only hope he will listen to reason.

"We could do something with the team, maybe?" he suggests.

"I have no interest in spending more time with the first years. I now understand why our senpais hated us."

"They didn't hate us," he chuckles. "They liked me."

"Tch," I say, of course I knew that; everyone likes Takao. He is popular and charming and has an easy way with people.

"That was just a joke, Shin-chan." He pats my arm.

"But the idea of spending my day with people whose company I do not despise isn't completely repugnant."

He tries to stifle a snicker, but it turns into a full-blown laugh when he sees the uncertainty in my eyes.

"You are such a tsundere. Ok, who don't you despise?" He takes out his cellphone and pokes at the buttons one-handed until he brings up a blank memo screen. His cellphone is so old he is able to accomplish this without letting go of my hand. The clamshell clasp that holds it closed is broken and I wonder how much longer he will be able to make it work. I want to say a name, any name, so that he can type it on the list, but there are so few people that haven't annoyed me or emotionally scared me, that I am quiet too long.

"Well," he says, letting his phone snap closed, "we don't have to make the list now."

* * *

Takao's POV

I could tell that Shin-chan was seriously considering names to be placed on the birthday party invitation list all day by the slightly more pronounced downward curve of his mouth. I tried to think of people to suggest and for every name I found, I found two reasons not to invite them. First, I tried to think of students at Shūtoku, but those in his class barely tolerated him, and he made it clear that he didn't want to spend the day with our teammates.

Secondly, I thought about the Generation of Miracles. No matter what he said, I knew he was frightened by Akashi. Aomine was a bully. He often called Kise 'trivial.' Murasakibara was too far away and Kuroko, while respected, was an A-type personality that 'wasn't compatible.' That was complete bullshit, they were very much alike and that was why he couldn't stand Kuroko. He was a mirror, too highly polished to reflect back Shin-chan's outward-appearing apathy. I figured that the guest list would finally include only his parents and our sisters. Wow, I was totally depressed just thinking about it.

At the end of the day, we walked back home using that last bit of exercise as part of our cool-down routine after practice.

"Would you like to join us for dinner?" he asked.

"I would, but I can't tonight. Yukina's got recital at school, joy. There is nothing I like more than sitting through hours of other people's siblings playing out-of-tune instrumental solos, while waiting for my sister to play a piece I've been forced to listen to her practice for the last eight week, but that's what a big brother is for."

"I understand. Thank you for not inviting me," he said. "Ah, before I forget, here's a list of people you may invite to my birthday celebration."

I took the sheet of carefully folded paper and tucked it into my pocket, unopened. I waited until I got home to read the list. It said:

1. Kuroko and a guest. Please make it clear, I would prefer that guest isn't Kagami.

2. Kise, as long as he brings along a babysitter. Like Sake, Kise is not palatable unfiltered.

Under the list was one more word that was not a name. It said: Karaoke?

* * *

The Oha Asa website was the first place I consulted when I went looking for the perfect birthday present for Shin-chan. Suggestions for Cancer birthdays were all themed around the birthstone, ruby. There were helpful links to buy jewelry for both men and women and as I browsed through them, Yukina peered over my shoulder.

"What are you doing?"

"Shopping for Shin-chan's birthday present."

"Jewelry?"

"It says on Oha Asa that a person's birthstone automatically raises their rank one level if it is given as a gift by your lover. I was thinking, maybe if I got him something like that, it would make him happy."

"That one's pretty, but masculine too," she said and pushed me forward into the keyboard so she could point at the link on the bottom right-hand corner of the page. I clicked on it and brought it up to a clearer picture. She was right, it was simple, but elegant, and the size would be large enough to be seen if he wanted it to show and small enough to hide discretely under clothing if he didn't. The cheapest version was set in white gold and cost around ¥28,000. The store was local and the website said it was in stock, all I'd have to do was run downtown.

"Do you have that much?" she asked.

We'd both learned years ago to keep all of our spending money on our persons at all times, so it was as simple as pulling my wallet loose to answer her question. I had two ¥10,000 bills and a handful of coins. Yukina pulled out her purse and peeled a single bill off her roll.

"I'll pay you back, I promise."

* * *

After us, Kise and Kasamatsu arrived first. Kasamatsu and I had exchanged numbers long ago and we'd stayed in contact even after he'd gone away to college, so asking him to be Kise's babysitter had been a no brainer. Mitobe arrived next and then I noticed, no, he'd been right behind Kuroko. The six of us sat in the booth, with the awkward birthday boy in the middle of the gathering.

Kuroko's choice of companion was perfect; the quiet hook shooter balanced out most of the noise Kise created. After offering Shin-chan the first go with the microphone, which he declined, Kise got up and sang an American song by someone named Justin Bieber. I have no idea what the words were in actuality, but it seemed that Kise didn't either. I picked an American song too, The Goo Goo Dolls' "Iris," just so I could rub in my superior language skills, and also because it fit Shin-chan really well.

Mitobe went to get drinks and came back with six cans of Shin-chan's favorite red bean soup. I missed Kuroko's turn at the microphone while swapping war stories of our Generation of Miracles teammates with Kasamatsu. Kise ran back from the bathroom, slammed the door shut, and spread himself wide across it to keep it closed.

"Fan girls," he sighed.

* * *

POV Midorima

The whole idea is a horrible mistake. Mitobe is the only one not getting on my nerves. He is quiet and solicitous – so quiet, in fact, I don't believe I've heard him say a word. When he notices our drinks are empty, he is the first one up and out for more. Takao and Kise get along too well for my tastes. They sing a duet of some English song and are hanging all over each other.

Kuroko appears and disappears all night and Kasamatsu is constantly chasing fan girls away. If this is what it is like to have friends, perhaps I need to rethink the matter. We only have the booth for two hours though, and as I check my watch again, I feel some hope in that I will only have to suffer this for another thirty minutes.

The door opens and I expect yet another set of screaming, mewling fan girls or Mitobe with another round of drinks, but the door opens and instead of red bean soup, he is holding a box with flaming candles peeking over the edge. I stay still as he approaches, weary of ending up with cake smashed in my face like Aomine did to me during our final year at Teiko. I don't think I can handle broken glasses and a black eye again. The others stop what they are doing and begin to sing. Mitobe carefully places the box down on the table. There are six individual cupcakes, all frosted to look like mini basketballs.

"Make a wish," Takao says, kneeling beside me as I stare at the treats. I lean forward after confirming that Kise is too far away to make a last second attempt at a prank, and blow the candles out in one go.

"I told Takao no cake," Kise said, proudly. "Not after that douchy thing Aomine did to you."

"I appreciate that, Kise," I say.

* * *

Thanks to my Beta Reader Sarah!


	7. Chapter 7

POV Midorima

Takao and I are the last to leave and we catch a bus to the stop closest to my house. Takao is considerate that way, but I suspect that perhaps he is embarrassed by his housing situation. I want him to stay the night, but I don't know how to ask. It has been over a month since we've been 'together' and I am beginning to crave that intimacy again. We haven't been celibate by choice, but by situation and timing. We stand near the front door at a place I know cannot be spied upon from anyone inside the house. I reached for him, but he turns away. I am stunned. He turns back and holds out a small green velvet box.

"Happy birthday, Shin-chan," he says, not noticing that momentary confusion. I take the box and pull open the lid. A flash of red catches my eye and then a twinkle of silver.

"Oha Asa says that a birthstone given as a present on the day of your birth will increase your daily ranking one level all year," he says. Takao is perfect, but I don't know how to say that either. He knows my idiosyncrasies better than anyone and caters to my foolish whims so naturally.

"You don't like it, do you?" His smile falls.

"This is the most thoughtful gift I have ever received," I say quickly, realizing that no one can always correctly guess what is behind my silences, not even him.

"Ok," he says, but he doesn't believe me.

I slip the pendant, a teardrop-shaped stone in a modest setting, out of the box and over my head. The chain is thick and long enough that I don't have to fight with the clasp. It falls to my breastbone and it looks good against my black shirt. I can't take my hand off of it.

"Will it disturb you if I act out of character for a moment?" I ask.

"It might have, but since you warned me, no," he smirks.

"This is the most precious gift I've ever been given," my voice is unsteady as I say it. "With this I feel like I have no need of other lucky items. I have of course, noted this particular item on Oha Asa many times, but this is the first time it has ever matter to me. You couldn't have picked something more perfect."

"I'm glad, Shin-chan," he says and he puts his hand over mine which is still clutching at the pendant. "Are you done being romantic and sappy now?"

"I believe the moment has passed, yes."

"I guess this is goodnight then," he says, but does not move.

"I want to tell you something, but I don't know how."

"Open your mouth and say words," he teases, but he understands how little experience I have with expressing myself with anything but contempt and sarcasm.

"I don't know the vocabulary."

"Ah," he nods as if this is what he suspected. "Then instead of telling me, show me. I'm sure I will understand you then."

"That's likely, you often understand what I mean even when I don't." It is a challenge and I am stubborn, so I try to predict how he would handle this situation. He is patient and watches me with expectant eyes.

I have been accused of slow pacing, but anyone who plays with me understands the explosive power that slumbers behind my muscles. When I decide to move, I use my entire bulk to back him up into the shadows off the front entrance. He squeaks as the air bursts from his lungs. I have surprised him and that feels exciting. Before he can recover, my left hand is on his throat. I doesn't seem like an intimate gesture; I'm sure to anyone who might see it, it looks like I am about to choke him, but it is the complete trust that I won't hurt him that makes it so incredibly sexy. I only wish my fingers were bare. I caress his Adam's apple and when he purrs I tilt his head back and his lips part. His hands are on my back and they ghost downward until his fingers invade my pants. His touch is chilled in comparison to how hot I feel.

"If you wanted me to stay over," he says as his nails dig into my cheeks, "all you had to do is ask."

"Stay with me," I say, it is not a request; it is another demand.

"Are your parents home?"

"Of course they are. Is that a problem?"

"If you want to have sex it is."

"Why do you insist on saying such unnecessary things?"

"I don't know," he sighs.

"What about your place? Are your parents home?"

"No," he hesitates, "but Yukina is and she wants you to do her nails. She'll give us no privacy."

"Love hotel? Do you have any cash? All I have is a bank card."

"I'm broke," he gestures to my present. "But, I'll still stay over, we'll just have to behave. I won't disrespect your family like that," he says with an almost desperate edge in his voice.

"That's a granted. You will stay no matter what, but I will have you tonight."

"How about center court in the gym?" he asks and takes the keys from his pocket.

"No, definitely, no such a thing, I'd never be able to walk in their without thinking of that." I've destroyed one of his fantasies, I can tell by the way he deflates. "Maybe right before we graduate, but not before," I compromise. His eyes glint in the dark.

"Trust me," he says and uses his own extraordinary speed to dance around me and into the street. He beckons me with one hand and then jogs away. He doesn't look back. With such long legs, I catch up to him in seconds and he slows to a fast trot as we turn the corner down at the end of the street. He is fast, but to conserve stamina, he slows again to a walk. I stay behind him in the narrow alley. These streets, just a quick walk from mine, are still busy at this time of night. Takao's hoddie hangs off one shoulder, I automatically want to straighten it, but the bluish street lights illuminate his bare neck and shoulder where the sleeveless tank he wears below fails to cover. He is stunningly, achingly beautiful.

"That park has a court and drug dealers," Takao tells me. We skirt the entrance, passing rundown apartment buildings, love hotels, and Ramen shops. Takao waves back to an old man who calls out to him by name, but doesn't stop to converse.

"That's one of the restaurants my mom works in," he points to a Maji Burger on the corner. There is a fleet of street racers parked in front. "Do you want to go in and meet her?

"Not yet."

A woman calls out offering sex.

"No thanks honey," he responds and takes my hand, leading me into a secondary park entrance. She cackles and wishes us luck.

"This destination isn't outdoors, is it?"

"Not technically," he smirks, "Trust me."

My head is swimming of thoughts of his skin and how it will taste tonight, but my anxiety isn't completely quiet either. His fingers are caught loosely in my left hand as he is careful not to squeeze the taped digits. There is a public library ahead of us as we exit the park. Takao leads through the parking lot and around the back of the building. At four stories, it is easily the tallest structure in the area. He stands, unsure below the fire escape, but then smiles.

"You're going to have to work for it a little," he teases as he jumps and catches the lowest rung of the ladder. He shimmies up, using only his arms until he is far enough up to catch a foot on the rungs. I don't even have to stretch to reach, but I wait until he is up far enough that I will not crowd him and then I follow. He passes the first balcony and continues to climb to the third floor. I am looking up, so I see him disappear over the balcony. His head pops over the side and watches me climb.

"When I was little, I'd hide in the library if it was open or out by the dumpster when I needed to get away for a while," he said. "Once I was tall enough to get up the ladder, I found this place and it was my escape at night if I needed it. It's technically outside, ok, but it's sheltered and unless the rain is coming in at a wicked angle, it's dry too."

"Escape what?" I ask, throwing my feet over the side of the balcony and standing next to him. His hands land on my chest and he looks up at me.

"My father's drinking." He says it so nonchalantly as if everyone's father drinks.

"Did he – does he – hurt you?" I ask.

"He's a lazy drunk, all I have to do to avoid him is leave," he shrugs.

"Don't let him hurt you," I order.

"I won't, don't get all…melancholy on me. I thought you wanted to have sex?"


	8. Chapter 8

Warning - sexual content. Skip to the second gray line to pick up the story without the sex scene.

* * *

POV Midorima

My paranoia demands that I check out the area first. The balcony is obviously an unused spot. The door has only a single window at eye level; I peer inside. The place is deserted and there are no evident security cameras. The ground is clean-ish, but there will be no padding for our intimate exercise. Takao strips out of his hoddie and spreads it out.

"I know it isn't ideal, but –"

"No," I say and back him up against the wall to continue what we'd started at my front door. "This will suffice." The 19 centimeter height difference is inconvenient, but when I slouch, I can reduce some of that difficulty.

"Shintarō," he whispers as I kiss at his neck.

"Yes, Kazunari," I put his hands back where they had began the night, between my pants and flesh. He chuckles. "I've done some research," I say each word separated by a single kiss.

"Oh?"

"Yes, for the best positions for partners with height differences," I tell him. "I found one I'd like to try."

"Tell me," he begs, his nails stop scratching up my back. We part only long enough to tear off our clothing.

"On your knees," I order and he pulls off my glasses, putting them aside carefully before he complies. His insistence that I not see him clearly is confusing, but if he needed me to be blindfolded, I would agree for him. He takes my hand to guide me to where he is waiting on his knees. Without letting go of that hand, he reaches out with the other and strokes me.

"Where do we start?" he asks.

I don't answer, but his voice helps me place him and I am able to crouch down and arrange my knees to either side of his legs. The website is right, in this position, I can lower until I feel his erection slide along my cleft. He shivers, but I know it's not because he is cold. His hands come up to my chest and even though this position does not allow us to kiss without contortions, we can embrace perfectly. We don't have any lubricant, but did some research on that as well. I take one of his hands into mine and I put his index finger into my mouth. I suck on it, tasting all the things he's touched recently. I add fingers until I have salivated onto his entire hand. I can't see his reaction, but I feel his erection bouncing against me and his hitchy, breathless whimpers encourage me. When I allow his fingers to pop out of my mouth, he strokes his penis and then lines it up at my entrance. Whoever is on top sets the pace in this position and he is still as I descend upon him. It is much harder to move without the slick help of lubrication.

"I'm so sorry," he pants. "I should have thought about lotion or something. Does it hurt?"

"This is only second time, of course it hurts," I snap. His body tenses under me. "But it's getting easier. If I wanted to stop, I would. Now shut up and work with me."

His arms come under mine, reaching up to lay his open palms on my shoulders. His head rests on my chest.

"I've read that it will feel better if you thrust up to meet my downward motion."

He doesn't move immediately, but waits until he picks up my pace and then he starts tentatively. I can't think of the words to tell him how I've missed this. He may be kneeling, but in order to thrust up, there has to be room between his legs and his butt. I use this gap to snake my hands down until I can get under each cheek and pull him toward me, showing him what I want. It doesn't take long for my more aggressive movements to encourage him and we are moving in concert in both intensity and duration. He is so deep inside me and his grip upon my back brings us closer together. Our chests rub against each other and my penis is trapped between his belly and mine. The friction, as we move, is flawless.

"Oh," he moans. "Shintarō, I've wanted to be inside you so bad these last few weeks. Please don't make me wait this long again."

It's impossible to prevent; I explode at those words. Takao does not fault me for coming so soon, instead he kisses my shoulder. I look down and we are close enough that I can see him, albeit out of focus. His lip is caught between his teeth and his eyelids flutter against his cheekbones. Staying at my pace is difficult, I can tell. His nails are deep into my flesh already, but he clenches, his back arches, and he throws his head back. If I was not watching so closely, he would have clipped my chin with his head, but I move in time.

"Shintarō," he cries my name and floods my insides, pulsing against me for minutes. He is dazed and senseless and it is my hands, which I now move up his back, that keep him from collapsing. I am not done with him yet. I am thankful for all the flexibility training coach has insisted upon. I can't reach his chest, but when I press my lips against his throat I can feel his pulse, beating wildly. His pace is so different from mine.

* * *

"Once a week, at least," I stammer. We are mostly dressed again. I am resting my back against the door and he is sprawled out in between my legs, his head relaxed on my stomach. I unwrap my fingers so that I can stroke his hair. He nuzzles into my touch.

"Hmm?"

"Don't you think? Is that too much?"

"Too much for what?" he asks and turns so that he can look up at me. I have my glasses back now and his skin glows with contentedness.

"You asked that I not make you wait so long again between such encounters."

He closes one eye and studies me.

"I don't want a schedule, I just want you to promise that when you want me, you'll tell me."

"I will endeavor to do so," I say and adjust my glasses. "As long as you do the same."

He laughs and it feels good to have brought that response out of him.

"Silly Shin-chan," he says, switching back to my regular nickname so easily. "I haven't not wanted you, wanted this, not one single day." He reaches out with the hand farthest away from me and places it on my chin and trails it down to my neck. With a firm grip, he uses that leverage to pull up so that our lips can meet in a searing kiss. This is the best birthday I've ever had.


	9. Chapter 9

POV Midorima

Thirty minutes into practice, Coach takes Takao aside. Takao's smile widens with each second. I can hear Coach's taciturn, halting speech pattern, but I can't hear the words.

"Hey, Midorima, stop starring at Takao and pay attention," the American exchange student yells at me. This is followed by a ball thrown too hard for the short distance between us. I side-step, allowing it to bounce harmlessly beside me. He is a centimeter taller than I am and as I look him in the eye, I find it relieving to no longer hold the distinction of being the tallest players on this team.

"Attend to your own affairs, first-year," I tell him. Takao sees my scowl and asks a silent question by tilting his head and scrunching his brow. I shake my head. Takao sprints off of the court and returns a few seconds later with a whistle. I am prepared for the shrill sound as I watch him put the thing to his lips.

"Huddle up," he calls and Coach steps up while we all gather around.

"Um, ah," Coach begins. He is almost as much of an introvert as I am; speaking in public is not his forte and we must strain to hear his announcement. He crosses his arms and nods once before beginning. "Practice – we are going to end early today for a field trip. Shower, change, be out at the bus in fifteen."

Now I understand Takao's joy. He has been trying to convince me to go to my former teammate's games to see how they compare to last season. I, however, want to concentrate on my own basketball first. There is only one game interesting enough for us to waste our practice time: Kaijō Vs Tōō.

I don't understand why the American continues to glare at me, but I shower, change, and pack quickly. I am the first outside waiting for the bus. The team wanders out slowly and Takao arrives with wet hair and hands full of papers. He gives one to each of us; it is the proposed starting line-up for when we play either of the two teams we will be watching.

"Coach wants you to pay specific attention to your potential marks. This is your homework – get to know the other players. We will only play one of these teams at Inter-High, but we will see them both again, at other tournaments," Takao explains.

It is not surprising that my assignment is to watch both team's aces as well as their shooting guards. Takao is listed to mark both Aomine and Kise as well. Both schools have less first-year students on their team this year and as such, they will be stronger teams. Without Imoyashi and Kasamatsu as captains, it is a temptation to underestimate them, but our first years thankfully take it seriously, at least, everyone but the American does.

"I don't have anyone to mark on Kaijō?" he asks.

"When we play Kaijō, Kent-kun, Akira-kun is better suited as the power forward," Takao clarifies.

"That's ridiculous, am I in the starting line-up or not?" he argues.

"Shūtoku has a different philosophy –"

"Yeah, yeah, tireless and persistent."

"I wasn't done speaking first-year," Takao raises his voice and it is completely out of character. "Shūtoku has s different philosophy. We win as a team and make decisions that support that." Kent's eyes narrow and he looks like he wants to argue but the bus has arrived and it is time to go.

* * *

POV Takao

We arrived while the players were still warming-up. As a favor to our coach, Tōō's coach had reserved two rows of seats for us. I waited until the rest of our team was seated in the first row and then Shin-chan and I took a seat behind them with Coach.

"I don't get what's so good about these guys that we needed to come all the way out here," Kent groused.

"Kise-kun and Aomine-kun are members of the Generation of Miracles. You'll understand once you watch them play," I leaned forward and told him.

"Midorimacchi! Takaocchi!" Kise called to us.

"Oh my god, don't tell me we're here to watch your friends play," Kent groaned.

"I'm so happy you came to watch us play. Aominecchi look who's here!"

"We came to prepare to defeat you, Kise, I hardly think that is something to celebrate," Shin-chan said, pushing his glasses up.

"Nay, nay, I wouldn't expect anything less of such a strong opponent. Let's go out for dinner afterwards, right Aominecchi?"

"We will be having a strategy session with the team right after, we'll have to pass," Shin-chan said.

Kise's pout was unbecoming of an adult male, but with it, we heard a hundred fan girls sigh. Aomine glared at the crowed, Kise looked embarrassed, and Shin-chan and I ignored the spectacle.

"I've changed," Aomine said, looking directly at Shin-chan. I felt slightly nauseous as the pressure of such an ordinary set of words became a challenge. Shin-chan's knee touched mine, seeking support. I pushed back against him.

"I would hope so," Shin-chan said. "It would be a shame to put all of Kuroko's work to correct your infantile behavior to waste."

"I won't apologize for the past."

"I am not a fool. I would not expect such a thing," he said, pushing up his glasses. If he did that one more time, his glasses would be up on his forehead instead of his nose.

"But I will show you," Aomine promised.

"On the court, Aomine, show me your new basketball."

* * *

POV Midorima

The game is strikingly even. Both teams are fairly-well matched. Tōō's shooting guard is better than Kaijō's, but neither of them have anything to teach me. Kise and Aomine are trading plays well. For the first time in almost four years, Aomine passes the ball when he could have made the shot. It is…noteworthy, but it does not change my opinion of him. He continues to bully the players around him, on both teams, but this time when he knocks someone down, he is the first to offer his hand to assist them up. If it lasts for more than the first half, I will be shocked.

"Whoa," Akira gasps as Kise uses his perfect copy. There is nothing uglier than that formless shot. It is inefficient; the amount of effort put into it does not equal the value of the points. The first-years are animated, but they aren't awed and overwhelmed.

"Now it makes sense," Sasuke says, turning around to look at me. "No wonder they call the group of you The Generation of Miracles."

"What are you talking about, those two are freakin' monsters; you're telling me Midorima is one of them? Get real," Kent scoffs.

Takao moves forward in his seat, I've never seen him moved to violence, but I nudge his leg and lean forward so that I invade Kent's personal space.

"That's because we reserve our true power for worthy opponents," I say imitating Aomine's slow drawl, but instead of apathy, I tint my voice with distain. The buzzer sounds, announcing the end of the second quarter. Kent jumps at the sound and blinks. Takao slaps my shoulder.

"Let's go get a snack; I'm starving."

I hold Kent's gaze for a few seconds longer and then I explode out of my seat, startling him once again. That can of red bean soup has never tasted so good.

"Kent-kun, ah um," I hear coach say. "Twenty laps around the building, um, ah, now."

* * *

The second half is a standstill for over three minutes. Both teams are frustrated and the play moves from the outside to the inside, hoping that more aggressive, less strategic play will break the stranglehold on the score. Tōō is up by three points and Aomine takes the ball, a smile spreads across his entire face.

"I don't know if I like that smile," Takao says. "At least when his eyes were dead, he wasn't this creepy."

"He is a simple creature of extremes."

"He's pushing Kise hard," Takao says. The ball misses and four players leap at the rebound.

"They are both loving every second of it. We need to think of a new strategy –" I am interrupted by the sound of a bone snapping.

"What happened?" Akira gasps. I am on my feet and Takao pushes me out into the aisle so he can see as well. There is a pile of players on the floor. The benches clear and soon most of the players are righted. Takao is too short to see.

"What's going on?"

"Most of the players are back on their feet," I narrate. "But Aomine and Kise are still on the ground." A wail of despair fills the air as Aomine kneels next to Kise. Kaijō's coach runs across the court.

"It's Kise," I say and I am down on floor level without realizing I have moved. The members of Tōō scurry back as I storm the court, Takao trailing behind me. Aomine is in shock, his tanned skin is gray and ashy. Takao puts a hand on his shoulder and he does not pull away. Momoi comes running with the first aid kit and skids to a halt as she sees Kise's injury. The leg is clearly broken right below the knee which is rotated in an unnatural direction. She pushes the kit at me and runs to the nearest trashcan. The sounds of her emptying her stomach is the only thing I can hear other than Kise's keening. After a few moments, Tōō's coach is on the phone, summoning an ambulance. Aomine shakes Takao off and goes to Kise's side.

"It's ok," he says, loud enough so that Kise will hear him over his screams. "You're strong, your team is strong. You can come back from this." It is the nicest lie I've ever heard, but Kise is having none of it.

"Midorimacchi?" he whines. He is aware that my father is a doctor and that I am not known to give bitter pills inside of sugar-coating.

"It is too early to tell the extent of the damage, Kise. There's no shame in falling down. True shame is to not stand up again."

The emergency responders are unprepared to move a person of Kise's considerable proportions, so it is left to Aomine and me to lift him to the gurney. Fan girls line the path Kise takes as he leaves the court.

"I'm going to the hospital," Aomine tells Momoi. He walks to me, stops, and looks down at his shoes. "This can't be the end for him."

We all return to our seats and I notice that my hands are shaking. Takao puts his left arm around my shoulders and holds my right hand with the other. There is still a game going on around us, but I don't see it. All I see is the damage. Kise will be lucky if he can walk again. When the final buzzer sounds, I look up. Tōō has managed to preserve their lead and secure the victory, but it makes no one happy. Kaijou stays only long enough to line-up and bow before dashing away. Momoi texts me and lets me know that Kise is in surgery already. She says that Aomine is devastated. [Will you come?] she asks. Takao takes my phone when I continue to stare at it without answering. He promises that we will come by after school tomorrow. Coach takes care of the rest of our team, while Takao coddles me. I'm not sure how to process my thoughts and I don't like the fact that others are seeing me like this. I take a seat on the bus next to the window and Takao is right there beside me. I look out the window and watch the scenery roll by, because if I don't distract myself now, all I will see is that twisted knee. Takao stands and rearranges himself so that he is kneeling in his seat. In this way, he can pull me against his shoulder.

"I can't," I whisper. "Not in front of the team."

"I know," he says, petting my hair.

"What a waste of time," Kent whines.

"Show some respect," Akira says.

"To what? To Who? The guy with the broken leg can't hear me."

"To our senpais," Sasuke shouts. There is movement in the back of the bus and I move away so that Takao can investigate. I turn to watch as he stalks back down the aisle.

"This is ridiculous," Takao yells and the bus falls silent. "Kise is phenomenal basketball player and if you can't see the tragedy that kind accident is for our entire sport, then you've no business being on the team."

"Ah, um, first years will have an additional, um, let me see, forty laps at practice tomorrow. Such rowdy behavior isn't fitting," Coach decides.

"God-damn, how many laps? All because the fags are upset that one of their boyfriends got hurt!"

"What did you just say?" Takao glares. Akira and Sasuke step into the aisle.

"Don't listen to him," Akira says.

"I expect your resignation from the team to be on my desk, first thing in the morning," Coach says. "Yes, um, I think that would be for the best."


	10. Chapter 10

POV Takao

Shin-chan nagged me for an entire week before he threatened me.

"Fool that you are, you told me where your mother works; I can go there at any time and introduce myself," he said as we walked home from visiting Kise in the hospital.

"Alright, alright, I get it, let's go," I relented and changed our direction. "Kise looked better, don't you think?"

"Better is a subjective term. He will never play basketball again."

"At least he's still got his looks," I said weakly.

* * *

The Maji Burger was overflowing with the after school crowd from my old middle school. We got in line and I ordered my usual grilled fish sandwich, French fries, and chocolate shake. I would have bet money that Shin-chan would be unable to order, much less eat, the food here, but he surprised me, ordering a grilled chicken sandwich and a bottle of water. The cashier wasn't my mother, but she recognized me and gave us a discount. Good to his word, he treated me.

"Is my mom around?" I asked her.

"She's on the fryer."

"Can you let her know I'm here, that we're here, and we would like to talk to her during her next break? We'll wait in the dining room until she's free."

"Sure honey." With food in hand, we took a corner booth away from all the pre-teens.

"Eat slowly," I suggested, pointing to the sign that said, "For the convenience of all our guests, dinners are remind to vacate tables promptly after eating." Shin-chan's eyebrows rose.

"As long as we have food in front of us, we're good, but I really hate this stuff and I don't want to have to order anymore."

"Charming," he said and unfolded his napkin. "Itadakimasu."

I mumbled the saying as well and we began to eat. We reviewed Shin-chan's English homework while we waited and I ate one cold, soggy French fry every time a Maji Burger employee came near the table. We passed an hour that way and soon enough, the after-school crowd thinned. A half an hour after that, Shin-chan called his parents, explaining why he wasn't home yet. By 7:00, salarymen began trickling in and by 7:45, I was tired of Shin-chan's attempts to draw me into conversation about my Japanese literature homework.

"Give me a sec," I said and went up to the same cashier.

"Any clue when my Mom's break will be?"

"Takao-kun are you still here? Your mother went home hours ago."

"What?" I asked, my shoulders sagging.

"Takao, is everything alright?" Shin -chan asked. I turn back to him with a cheesy grin.

"Just a minute."

"She left right after the school rush. Didn't you see her?"

"No, we must have missed each other in the crowd, thanks." Instead of returning to the table, I motioned to Shin-chan that he should wait, and I walked outside, forcing a skip into my step. I leaned against the window just outside and dialed her number.

"Yes?" she answered, sounding irritated, like I was the one who ditched her.

"So, ah, I was wondering where you went," I tried to keep my tone light.

"I'm at home Kazu," she answered and I could hear her blow smoke across the cell's microphone. Smoking was prohibited in our apartment complex and I wondered where she really was.

"Ah, ok. Shin-chan and I are still at Mani Burger."

"Whose bright idea was that? I didn't ask you to wait, in fact, do you think I want to meet your rich boyfriend covered in grease and wearing a paper hat? Sure that's every woman's dream."

"I guess I didn't think it through. I'm sorry. When would be a better time for you? I could bring him Seoul Garden."

"If you like, I'm not ashamed of being half-Korean," she said, the implication being that she was embarrassed to work at Mani Burger. Or maybe, she thought I was ashamed of not being pure Japanese. Either way saying nothing was the best course. "On your way home, pick up some lunches for yourself and Yukina."

"I don't have any money left. I spent it on dinner," I lied, knowing she had no intention of paying me back.

"Can you borrow some from Midorima?"

Shin-chan rapped on the window and gestured to the sign and our empty food containers. I nodded and he began repacking our school bags. "I'll be right there," I mouthed.

"When can he meet you?" I pressed, changing the subject.

"I don't see any reason to meet him. You're happy, that's good enough."

"He wants to meet you; it's important to him."

"Why?" she laughed, "Is he looking for an excuse to break up with you?"

"That's not funny."

"Poor Kazu, did I hurt your feelings?"

"We have a big literature rest coming up, so I'm probably going to end up spending the night at his place."

"Again?" she chucked. "You need to be careful, Kazu, when rich boys get what they want, they get tired of people like you."

"Gotta go, Mom. We're done with our food," I said and disconnected before she could laugh at me again.

Shin-chan's slight frown betrayed how worried he was.

"She wasn't feeling well. She sent me a text but I must have been in a dead spot," I lied. "She thinks she's coming down with something and didn't want to pass it on to either of us."

"Please convey my well-wishes to her."

"I will," I smiled. "We'll figure out a time to reschedule. Hey, can I stay over tonight? With that preliminary game coming up, I can't afford to get sick."

"I'll call ahead," he offered.

* * *

For the first time since his birthday, his Mom welcomed me home for a sleepover.

"Maybe we should buy a spare futon," she said as I followed her into Nobou's office, where the couch was already prepared with a pillow and blanket. Shin-chan hovered nearby with a spare set of shorts and a t-shirt for me to sleep in. While I changed in the hallway bathroom, I could hear the two whispering.

"I believe he is concealing a fight he had with his mother."

"Family can be stressful. Not everyone deals with it in the same way."

"I'm starting to understand that," he sighed. I could imagine him rubbing his temples.

"Be his support then. Provide him stability when he can't find it at home."

"How can you say such embarrassing thing so easily?" he asked. I thought I heard a bit of humor in the question and her ability to bring that out of him made me jealous.

"Because I can see how much you love him, you can't hide that from me. I know you too well. Perhaps you should tell him."

"He knows; he always know," he muttered. I did know, just like I knew he was blushing as he said it. But she was right, I'd love to hear him say it.

"Sometimes it is important to say it out loud, especially if he's feeling vulnerable."

When I finally managed to stop the tears and scrubbed my face clean, I left the bathroom. Shin-chan was there, dressed for bed. He handed me a can of soup.

"Huh?"

"It appears to me that now is not the time to leave you alone."

"Oh," I managed to answer and followed him into the office. In his words I heard the subtext like a subliminal recording. It said, "I love you, Kazunari."


	11. Chapter 11

POV Takao

That woman came to our next game.

"Has anyone seen my son? Takao Kazunari or his boyfriend, Midorima Shintarō?" she asked, her voice loud and strident. Apparently she planned on outing me to the team; it was another attempt to embarrass me, but my teammates, along with anyone else important already knew. And it's not like she couldn't find me in the crowd, I was wearing a bright orange uniform with the number ten prominently displayed on the back. She was doing this just to be spiteful. I ignored her.

"Captain was just here," the first year player, Akira, told her. "I'll go find him for you." She frowned.

Shin-chan was on the bench, reviewing his superstitious pre-game checklist and thankfully, he hadn't noticed her spectacle. She was tarted up; the straps on her blouse too thin, her skirt cut too high (wait, was that Yukina's skirt?), her heels too pointed. Her makeup was overdone as well with bright pink cheeks. I could smell the cigarette smoke from where I stood.

"Kazu-kun," she called out and wobbled to the edge of the court, she was the essence of every horrible ethnic Korean stereotype. Behind her I saw Keiko and Kaori settling into first row seats. I made a note to steer her as far away from them as possible.

"Sorry Mom, Coach needs to review the game plan with me. How about you grab a seat and we'll talk in a few minutes?"

"Ok," she said and I lost sight of her as I looked over the notes with Coach.

* * *

"Well, aren't you just exactly like he described you?" she said and I turned in horror to see her standing next to Shin-chan. He'd risen to greet her.

"Takao is not prone to exaggeration," he responded. I'd obviously missed the opening volleys of the conversation. Sparks were flying.

"No? Well that certainly true in your case. You certainly don't seem to be living by the proverb that 'the stake that sticks out gets hammered down.' You are freakishly tall, how does he even kiss you?" I'd told her, in a moment of weakness that Shin-chan was sensitive about his height and now she was punishing me through him.

"I am the tallest player on the team, but not the tallest in high school basketball throughout the country. We manage just fine, thank you for your concern."

"Is that so? Good for you. Well I hope you have a great match," she said. "I'll be rooting for you." She tottered off and I hoped that would be the end of her performance.

"Which of you is my son's boyfriend's parents?" I heard her yell into the crowd. Keiko, elegant as usual, was wearing a kimono in Shūtoku orange. She stood and felt like I was going to vomit. The two women spoke for what seemed like an eternity and then my mother turned and left the gym.

"Come, the game is about to begin," Shin-chan said, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"I want to know what she said to your mom."

"Get your head in the game, Captain. Our private lives have no bearing on the court."

"You're right of course, thank you."

* * *

POV Midorima

Takao's performance at the game suffers with the added distraction of his mother and her…colorful behavior. Whatever Mom said to her, she does not return, but even the lack of her is disconcerting to Takao. The first year's don't know how to react to their captain's distracted state and coach removes him from the game about halfway through the third quarter. We are far enough up in the points, thanks to my three-pointers, that it matters little if he's leading the team on the court or if I am. We win, of course, because it is a good day for Cancer, I have my luck item, and I have prepared my best. Takao is depressed, whether it is his mother or his reaction to her that is disturbing him, I don't know. Kaori and Mom are waiting for us after the game and when he sees them he groans, but forces a smile on his face. It is the smile I hate, the one that does not reach his eyes.

"Nisan, you were awesome tonight" Kaori grins at me, she is so shy that her voice is barely audible. "Look, look, the two of you are on the cover of Basketball Monthly."

I take the magazine from her and sure enough I am featured prominently on the cover. Takao is standing to the side and behind me, in my shadow. The headline above us says "Shutoku's Light and Shadow." It is part of the series of articles about the Generation of Miracles and how each of us has a new player who supports us. Last month Murasakibara and Himuro were the featured duo. I flip to the two-page spread. Most of the space is filled with glossy action photos of my shooting. There is only one clear photo of Takao and it is of the back of his head.

"Oh, so cool!" Takao crowds me and finally I push him in front of me so that we can look at the magazine together. "I love that picture!" He points to one where I am covered in sweat, but I have a ghost of a smile on my lips. This picture will not doubt me torn from another copy of this magazine and taped inside his shoe locker. I skim the text and words like "number one shooter," "three-pointer," and "prodigy" are used often to describe me. They spell Takao's name correctly. In regards to me, Takao is quoted as saying, "I played against him in high school and we were completely crushed; he was a god of basketball. When we started playing together, I realized that I couldn't just think of him as prodigy. Midorima works harder and longer than anyone to perfect his skills. He is 100% the real deal." It is a wonderful statement and I know that if I wasn't already so overheated from the game, I'd be blushing.

"Aww," Takao pouts, "they cut out all the really cool things I said about you."

"I am gratified that you spoke about my work ethic," I tell him. I continue down the page, looking for the words I used to describe Takao, yet none appear. I had spent a good fifteen minutes on the phone with the reporter and I am annoyed.

"Why are you frowning?" Kaori asks. Her eyes are much older than her ages belies.

"I don't see my quote about Takao."

"Did you say nice things about me?" Takao asks.

"Look under the photo of him, there's a quote there," Kaori suggests. Under the photograph there is a quote, a single line that does no justice to Takao's basketball. It says: "Takao is the only player I trust to be my partner."

"Aww, Shin-chan, that's perfect!" he is excited, practically bouncing in front of me.

Kaori grabs the magazine and holds out a black marker to Takao.

"I want you to sign it," she says. "But don't cover up your face."

"If you intend to steal my magazine, you'll have to buy me another copy," I tell her. They both ignore me. He takes the marker and scribbles, "Persistent and Tireless – Takao." He tries to hand it to me to sign next, but Kaori snatches it away from him.

"I live with him," she smirks and I want to rub that look off her face. "He's not special like you are."

I decide that even if her intentions are right, to compliment him above me, her way of doing so is rude. I take the magazine from her as she pouts and hand it over to Mom. Once it is safely out of harms way, I scoop her up and throw her over my shoulder. From there it is easy to attack her ribs with a series of well-place tickles. She is heaving and kicking, but I don't relent and Mom covers her mouth to hide her amusement.

"Free shot?" I offer Takao and turn so that the other side of her is exposed to him.

"No, no," he says, shaking his head. "I'm not risking losing my special status." His smile is genuine for the first time that night and I am pleased it is my fault.


	12. Chapter 12

POV Midorima

My form is perfect as I prepare to receive Takao's pass. I can feel my pulse as I swallow and I count as seconds go by – waiting, anticipating, trusting that his form will be perfect as well. He laughs it off when I utter passive-aggressive compliments about his abilities in conjunction with mine, but he understand me. There is a squeak of rubber against the polished wood, but the shot never comes, instead I hear the dull thud of a dead ball. I turn and see that Coach has pulled Takao aside. Their conversation looks serious, so my momentary aggravation turns to concern. He feels my eyes watching them and he turns to give me his trademark cheeky grin and a wave. I go back to shooting threes, just regular threes until Takao can join me on the court again.

"Hey, nothing to worry about or anything," Takao prefaces his statement in a way he knows will put me at ease. "But my Mom needs me to come home early today. So, I'm gonna head out now." He scratches the back of his head and looks distractedly around. His mind is already somewhere else.

"Alright," I assure, "I am capable of finding my way home." He smirks. We don't believe in public displays of affection on the court, we hardly participate in it at school at all, but as he walks by me, he bumps his shoulder into my arm in a gesture we've come to think of as a kiss. It is the first time he's done that on the court and it makes me smile.

"Call me later," I say.

"You got it, Shin-chan. I need you to tell me what I slept through in lit class today."

"Tch," I utter, but I will copy my notes for him on the way home, just in case. After all, I will need his help in order to bring my English grade up at midterms. There is almost no skip in his step as he leaves, but he is humming some K-Pop song and that always comforts him.

Without Takao, I work with two of the first year players, Akira and Satsuke. Satsuke is nothing special, but Akira has a decent hook shot, even if he lacks discipline to be as good as Serin's Mitobe. Perhaps I will contact Kuroko and see if he can introduce the two. I haven't perspired this hard all week and I realize that I did not use a single selfish action today. Only Takao has remarked upon the fact that I have self-elected to use one less selfish daily act each year until graduation, but today somehow I feel cheated.

* * *

"Practice sucks without Captain," Satsuke says from across the locker room. My hair is wet from the shower, but I turn my attention to wrapping my fingers. The roll of tape in my bag is almost done, so I ransack Takao's locker for a spare roll.

"Only sucked for you," Akira crows. "I got to practice shooting with Midorima-senpai." It is odd to hear them, the new players, refer to Takao as Captain. It is a role he is very suited for personality-wise and in comparison he is even more gifted at it then Akashi ever was. As always, he is the only one able to deal with both me and the rest of the team so fluidly. I once again fulfill the role of Vice-Captain and I do it well.

"Lucky! Where'd he go anyway?" Satsuke asks.

"I overheard him say something about his father coming home today." I stop taping, incomplete on the index finger.

"Hey, Senpai, has his dad been away on business for a long time or something?" Satsuke asks.

"What did you say about his father?" I ask.

"Cap told Coach that his father had come home and he needed to be there," Akira recalls.

I drop the tape and throw my towel to one side. I grab my dirty warm-up clothing and toss them back on. I leave everything else where it is. _Liar_, I think. _Dammitt, Takao, aren't we partners?_

"Senpai? What's wrong?" someone asks as I rush out the door.

"Nothing," I snap and then under my breath, "Everything."

* * *

It is obvious that Takao is ashamed of something because I have never been invited over. I have no idea where he lives, but Coach knows from the look on my face that I'm willing to trade in my selfish acts for the address. Coach has never seen panic in my eyes before.

As soon as I hit the front gate, I'm running. The easiest way to his home is to pass by mine. Kaori is waiting outside our front door to tell me something. She sees my state and runs along with me.

"What's wrong?"

"Takao," I shout and my legs are moving so fast she can't keep up.

Takao lives in a shitty part of town with poorly labeled streets, but sirens in the distance lead me in the right direction. An ambulance and two prefectural police cars are in the parking lot of a small two-story apartment complex. Takao's mother, Soon-Bok, is barefoot and wrapped in a blanket while speaking to two women in uniforms. I rush to the back of the ambulance. It is empty. I double over as I stop before Soon-Bok and try to recover from the run.

"Kazunari," I pant. She points toward the open door at the top of the stairs. I don't think, I push pass two officers and launch up the first two steps. I'm looking up so I see Takao fly backward out of the door. A large, bloated man with slate gray eyes swaggers after him. There is blood leaking down Takao's face and there is a broken bottle in his father's hand. I am frozen mid-step as I watch the man grab Takao by the front of the shirt and shove him down the stairs. I step back to put one foot on the ground and I brace. Takao slams into my chest like a limp sandbag. As officers charge, I pull Takao clear. He doesn't protest when I lay him out on the concrete and emergency workers rush to us. My eyes don't leave Takao's stunned and pale face, so I miss the confrontation between his father and the police. Takao blinks slowly, making no sound as a shard of glass is removed from his scalp and a bandage is applied.

"He'll need to see a doctor," I am told. I nod.

"Yes, my father is a doctor. I'll take care of it."

Takao stumbled to his feet and glares at his father as the man is taken into custody.

"Takao-san," one of the women officers says to his mother, "will you press charges _this _time?"

She takes a puff of her cigarette and looks away.

"I'll press charges against that son of a bitch," Takao spits.

"Kazunari," the older man growls, "you little cock-sucking whore –" Whatever else he means to say is cut off as the car door closes. Takao staggers as all the adrenaline and bravado fades. I am right behind him.

"Where is Yukina?" I ask. Takao's eyes aren't locked onto anything. He doesn't hear me.

"She's on a class trip," Soon-Bok says. "I'm going to stay with my sister tonight. Can he stay with you?"

"Of course," I answer. I hear the contempt in my answer and if she doesn't, she is deaf as well as stupid.


	13. Chapter 13

POV Midorima

I call my father and he arrives with the car so quickly, I know Kaori has alerted him that there is an emergency. I leave Takao in Dad's care while the police let me through to the apartment to get his things.

"Excuse the intrusion," I say as I step inside. The front room has been destroyed. Furniture is broken and upended; it looks like someone has put a foot through the television. It is a small apartment made smaller by the mess. The first room is a combined living room and kitchen and off to the right is the bathroom. There are four toothbrushes. I guess that the green one that matches my eyes is probably his, but I leave it. I have spares. Across the hall, his mother is packing a very large suitcase. She looks like she won't be coming back to this place. I don't blame her.

"Kazu shares the room at the end of the hall with Yukina," she says without looking up. I don't trust myself to speak to her. "There should be a suitcase under the bed."

The door to the room is broken and hangs off the hinge. I move it aside. The siblings share the smallest room in the apartment. It is barely larger than the bathroom and at first glance I can tell it wasn't meant to be lived in – maybe it had once been storage. I ignore the blood splattered on the floor. If I think about it, I will vomit. They have bunk beds. The bottom bunk is flowery and pink. The top is unsurprisingly green and orange. There is a small window above his bed and it is the only source of light in the room. Takao's uniforms and the yukata I bought him are hung on hangers that hang on hooks on the wall. There is a suitcase stuffed under the bed. I carefully fold his hanging garments and all the clothing from the dresser. There is plenty of room in the suitcase.

Takao's homework is spread out on the desk and I gather it all up and repack his school bag. I look around to see what else he may need. Under his pillow is a manga from the library with a book mark in it, I toss that on top. On the ceiling above his pillow, he's taped a photograph of the two of us on the day we took third place at last year's Winter Cup. I carefully peel it free and slip it into the manga to protect it. There are two lucky items I gave him on the windowsill, one is a rubber ducky wearing a snorkel and the other, a pen with a goldfish topper. The first I bought him on day we took an especially hard English test and Oha Asa's prediction for Scorpio had been particularly bad. With the lucky item, he'd scored first in our year and second in the prefecture. If his sign had had a higher ranking, he would most likely have place first in the prefecture.

That's it; his whole life fits loosely into an old suitcase. I close it up and run into his mother in the hallway as she comes out of the bathroom. She doesn't say anything to me, but she hands me a plastic shopping bag filled with sundries. At the door, I find a pair of black shoes that look like the right size and I take those and the white slippers and go downstairs.

"How is he?" I ask my father.

"He's in shock, but we can treat that at home."

Dad puts the suitcase in the trunk while I guide Takao into the back seat. I don't remember the drive home or getting him into the house, but I focus again when Dad sits Takao down in his office and examines the cut on his head. Takao hisses as the antiseptic bubbles at the wound.

"That's a good sign," Dad says with a smile.

* * *

POV Takao

Nobou said something to Shin-chan and he relaxed. His fingers were partially wrapped and that bothered me.

"Silly Shin-chan," I smirk. "I always have extra tape in my locker." Tears, big fat, heavy ones rolled warm down my cheeks. "I didn't want you to…"

"Shut up, fool," he said and moved in close enough to palm the back of my head. When I didn't resist, he pulled me to his chest. His pulse was strange, beating wildly, but after taking a deep breath, it slowed, steady and even against my ear. Nobou excused himself and Shin-chan's right hand massaged the tight muscles in my shoulder.

"What would you do if someone hurt me?" he asked.

"I'd kill them," I said, no hesitation.

"That is how I feel as well. When you keep things from me, you deny me the right to do the same on your behalf."

"I'm sorry. I just didn't want to be a burden. I didn't want you to see us like that."

"I've seen it before, in every smile you've faked. I'm stoic, not stupid. Did you believe I'd think less of you? You can't be blame for your father's addictions. "

"No," I said, knowing it sounded unconvincing. "It's a habit, I guess. It's sucked for so long; I haven't even known life without him like that. Mom swore us to secrecy so long ago. It's not really lying…" my voice trailed off.

"No, it's lying. Lying to me, to your partner. You will not do that again," he said and his arms tightened around me.

"Are you angry?" I asked.

"No, I'm scared, terrified. What if he'd…?" Shin-chan said, his voice stuttered into silence.

"It's ok. I'm ok."

"But that's not completely true either; I'm angry that she left you alone with him."

"I told her to run, to call the police; she did."

Nobou returned with a crate of sport drinks and made me drink liter after liter of the stuff until I thought it would pour from my ears. Only after I was finished, did he invite us both to join the rest of the family at the kotatsu. Shin-chan and I shared one side of the table where two red ceramic bowls waited for us, heaped high with pure white rice. Keiko served us each a matching plate of yellowtail and mixed pickled vegetables. A simple miso soup accompanied the meal. The meal warmed me up from the inside as much as the heat of the table warmed my outside.

* * *

After dinner, Shin-chan gave me the first go at the bathroom. While I showered, he retrieved my dirty laundry, leaving my yukata and a pair of boxers for me to dress in. When I stumbled out of the bathroom, Keiko was in the bedroom, on her knees pulling back the covers of Shin-chan's futon. If I couldn't be with Shin-chan, if I had to sleep in the office tonight it would break me, but I didn't know how to say that to her without sounding like some sort of creepy pervert. I watched as she added a second pillow.

"You don't mind sharing, do you Kazu-kun? We still don't have a spare futon," she asked as she caught me staring.

"No, not at all," I said, my voice was shaking almost as hard as my legs. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience." I got down on my knees before I could fall.

"Three sons, two daughters. What is one more?" she said, stood, and went to the door. "Shintarō put your things in the closet, but if you need anything, please ask."

"Where is Shin-chan?" I forced myself to blink back the tears building in my eyes.

"Using our shower. He didn't want to leave you alone, but he smelled bad," she smiled.

"Ok," my voiced cracked.

"Get under the covers," she directed and I did as I was told. She came around and knelt beside me.

"How are the first years shaping up?" she asked and the simple question was so easy to answer.


	14. Chapter 14

This chapter contains sexual situations, but it is safe to read down until it switches to Takao's POV. Don't read if that offends you. The rest of the story picks up in the next chapter - I promise.

* * *

POV Midorima

Dad says that Takao must be observed and Mom doesn't argue when I announce that he will sleep in my room tonight. I don't need a shower, but Mom insists, so I rush through it, neglecting my hair and barely soaping up, before rinsing. I dress perfunctorily in a t-shirt and loose pants. I swallow the pills out of my key chain fob with water cupped in my hands. I hurry down the hall, my wet feet leave footprints along the tatami.

Mom is sitting with Takao and she is holding his hand as they talk about basketball. I have always adored my mother, but in this moment I have never loved her more. He sees me in the doorway and his red-rimmed eyes aren't as dead as they have been all evening.

"Thanks, Mom," I say. She leans forward and kisses Takao's cheek. He blushes.

She touches my hand as we pass. I stop and look down at her. In that moment, her eyes tell me so many things. She is angry and worried, but at the same time she is proud of me.

"Rest well," she says as she slides the door closed.

Takao has claimed the right side of the futon and when I lay day, he burrows into the space between my arm and chest. I reach up and stroke his hair and his eyes fall closed. His sigh might start in his chest, but it runs out along his whole body.

* * *

POV Takao

A car door slammed and I woke shaking; Dad was home. I bolted upright and reached for the photo of Shin-chan above my head to touch it for luck and strength, but there was nothing above me but air. My breath caught in my chest and in the dark and panicked place a hand reached out to me.

"You are safe," Shin-chan said very slowly and he took my shoulders into his large hands and pulled me back into his chest. My heart beat was so loud I could hardly hear as he whispered into my ear.

"You are safe," he repeated.

There were no more tears, but my lungs ached for air, labored and painful. He turned my head with his hand, strong on my chin and his lips found mine in the dark, even without his glasses. He wasn't hesitant like he was before, three months ago when we slept together for the first time in this bed. I opened my mouth and welcomed the feeling of him. Without thinking I spun in his arms and clung to him, my rock in the middle of these nightmares. He tugged at my yukata, pulled it free, and tossed it to the side. His hands, warm and large, roamed up my back. I fought for air now, not because I was scared, but because his lips didn't leave mine for more than a second. I pushed him back and he started to protest, but I shut it down by tearing his shirt over his head. We came together with a clash of teeth. He laughed.

"Shh, your parent, your sister," I panted.

"I could scream that the house was on fire and Kaori would sleep right through it and my parents are on the other side of the house," he said and flipped me on my back and stole my boxers down in one smooth move. He wasn't any more careful removing his own pants, but it didn't matter when he ground against me.

"I want to make you feel safe," he said, a ghostly whisper into my hair.

"You do, I do, always."

"Tell me what you want, my mouth, my hands, my…anything you want."

We were both too shy to say what we both wanted, so I ran my hands down his spine to the swell above his skinny ass. He threw his head back and mewled. A generous helping of lotion later, I took myself in hand and guided it between his legs. With my other hand, I urged him down. When I entered him, his eyes went wide and then closed, his long lashes sweeping over his cheeks.

"I like this, even better than at the library," he said.

"Of course you do, you're totally in control and we are in your bed," I told him. "Now set the pace."

He held perfectly still and I knew he was listening to his internal clock. If it hurt, he made no sign of it. He put his hands on the pillow to either side of my head and rocked down on me hard. He rolled his hips and established a pace that made my head spin. It was better like that, with him riding me, looming over me with all his hot, flushed skin available to my hands, my mouth. It was difficult keeping my hips from rushing to meet his, but his was so damn sexy with his back arched that I gave up and enjoyed now hard he was working for me. I ran my hands down his back and then up his sides, drawing forth a chuckle when I hit a spot between his ribs. That sound was so magical and I felt special knowing I was one of the few people he could laugh with. He shifted all his weight to one arm and dragged one of my hands off his narrow hip and down between his legs.

"I want to…with you inside me," he gasped.

"Shintarō, you are my world, my everything."

"Always," he growled into my mouth and I came. He joined me a few minutes later, all hot and sticky over my stomach and chest. He groaned and peeled away from me.

"I'll be back," he yawned and padded quietly into the bathroom. He came back with a wet cloth and carefully wiped away the evidence from my belly.

"Just in case," I said and handed him his pants, then I put mine shorts back on as well. After we settled back down, I tugged on his arm until he covered me like a blanket.

"This can't possibly be comfortable. Can you even breathe?"

"It doesn't matter; I just need you."


	15. Chapter 15

POV Midorima

The door slides open, but Takao is warm in my arms and I don't care about anything else so I don't even open my eyes.

"Shintarō," my mother says in a hushed voice. I open one eye and muffle a yawn into the back of my hand. "It is 8 o'clock."

I always wake, unassisted, before 7 am, rise and run 2 miles and am at breakfast before Oha Asa's report at 8am. I'm momentarily confused. The voices in the back of my head urge me to watch the broadcast, but Takao is more important.

"Today is Saturday?" I ask. She nods. "He needs to take the day off."

"Don't forget to take your medicine."

I almost ask her to get my pills for me, but I want her to see that we are not naked under the covers. I don't know if she aware of the fact that we are intimate, but it would be rude to flaunt it. I shift Takao and slide from under his arm. I leave the covers drawn back so that she can see he is dressed as well. She pretends not to look, but she is pleased. I want to ask her why she is so happy, but I know she will respond by asking me a questions I don't want to answer. I swallow my pills and snuggle down to waste the rest of the day being a pillow.

* * *

While Takao undergoes another exam and wound cleaning with Dad, Mom sends me to the market to buy supplies to make Takao's favorite meal.

"How many kinds of panko are there?" I am irritated that the list isn't more detailed. Even a brand would help, but my mother does these things as therapy for my OCD.

"What do you need it for?" a familiar voice asks. I turn to see Serin's ace rubbing at the back of his neck, a shopping basket in his hand.

"My mother is breading tofu to fry," I answer, trying to keep my eye from twitching. We've gone back and forth for two years winning and losing to each other – I acknowledge him, as I do Kuroko and the other members of Serin, but I don't consider them friends.

"Hm, well I guess it would depend on the tofu you get."

"Extra-firm," I consult the list.

"I like this one," he hands me a black box with gold lettering. "It is a bit pricey, but it won't destroy the tofu."

"Something tells me there will be more than one kind of extra-firm tofu as well," I say and place the box in my basket.

"Lots and lots. Want a recommendation?" He's learning how to deal with people better than he used to and thanks to Takao's tutoring, so am I.

"Yes, if you have time to spare."

"I do," he says and leads me to another section of the store. "I'm just doing my weekly shopping." He helps me find the last few items on the list as if it natural for him to shop with others.

"Thank you," I say and I think we are both surprised I mean it.

"No worries," he says in English, sounding awkwardly American. "Some of us are getting together up at Komazawa Park tomorrow at 3 to play. You should join us, bring Takao."

Basketball is my therapy and it may do Takao well. We only have so much precious time alone; will Takao want to spend it with Kagami? Ultimately, we will have to check with Dad first.

"Don't count on us, but if he is up to it, we will join you," I say. He's confused, either by my tentative acceptance or my comment about Takao. I use his confusion to pay for his groceries as well.

* * *

I arrive home, eager to tell Takao about the invitation, but when I come into the living room, mom is sitting on her knees with Takao's head on her lap, facing away from me. She gently strokes his hair and makes soothing noises that I have heard myself a thousand times.

"Mom," I whisper. She looks up at me, almost pityingly and her smile does not reflect in her eyes. "What's happened?"

"Takao-kun," she calls to him and pats his cheek, "Shintarō is home."

Takao stirs and rubs his face as he makes an effort to raise himself on one elbow. Mom slips out quietly and I take her place on the floor, sitting into the warm spot she's left behind, but I can't suppress the shiver that runs up my spine when I see his red-rimmed eyes. This is a look that has become too commonplace.

"Your mom's the best, you know," he says and his eyes unfocused. He tries to look at me, but tears well up in his gentle gray eyes and he bites his lip.

"What's wrong, Kazu?"

He looks up at me, sharply, when I shorten his first name. I compartmentalize our affection so efficiently that unless we are in bed, naked together, I have never called him anything but Takao and I see happiness dance behind his eyes before he remembers that whatever is wrong is so terrible that even this momentary change in our pattern cannot distract him.

"My mom called," he begins and he shifts uncomfortably, as if there is no way to say what is on his mind.

"Are they well? Your mother and sister?"

"They're fine," he says and I can see already that this is not the issue. "We're…" he says, but he cannot finish the sentence. I crawl forward on my knees and slip my arms around him. He leans into me sideways, his legs jutting out, and puts his head on my shoulder. "Mom's decided that we have to move. Her sister lives in Osaka and that's where she went last night and she said she wants me to pack up all the stuff and…and…"

My heart stops for a beat and the panic wells in my chest in a way I haven't felt in the last year and a half. I want to get up and run to the bathroom to vomit, but I can't move.

"Shin-chan?" he must feel my tension because he is shaking me.

"No," I growl. "Osaka is 3 hours away by train, that's not acceptable."

"Shin-chan, what else am I to do? I can't live with my father."

"I don't know, but this can't happen."

* * *

POV Takao

That evening at dinner, Nobou had a creepy little smile on his face, but Shin-chan was too morose to notice.

"So, Takao, I spoke with your mother today."

"Oh?"

"I did and to your coach," he said and turned to his wife. "Why do children always have to make things so complicated?"

"Boys," she shrugged.

"I told your mother that once you moved to Osaka she would have a permanent house guest. I told her all about Shintarō's medical needs and gave her some advice to deal with his idiosyncrasies. Your mother was, let us say, less than happy."

I responded with a short bark of laughter. Shin-chan's face scrunched up.

"My medical history isn't any of her business," he snarled.

Nobou ignored his son's outburst. "Of course, I told her, that if you were allowed to stay behind and become our permanent house guest, she wouldn't have to deal with any of that."

"I can stay?" My voice broke, betraying all the emotions I had thought I had sealed down again.

"She was a bit reluctant, but as long as your grades are maintained and your scholarships continue, you can reside here with us."


	16. Chapter 16

POV Takao

I had to ask him to repeat that last statement.

"Do you want to play basketball with Kagami and his friends this afternoon," he said slowly. "Should Dad examine your ears as well?"

"Ha, ha," I smirk. "I just can't believe you're willing to be sociable. You must be very worried about me."

"Basketball is therapeutic," he said and adjusted his glasses.

* * *

We arrived at the court at 3:15 on purpose so that the other players would feel, as Shin-chan said, no obligation to sit out on our account. The game was in full gear as we arrived and they waited until the next basket had been made before they acknowledge us.

"Midorima-kun, I didn't think you would come," Kuroko says.

"Takao, what happened to your head?" Kagami asked, referring to me casually, as if we've been friends forever. Shin-chan was annoyed, but Kagami was just too American to bother me. I scratched my head just above the bandage and tried to figure out what to say without lying.

"Bar fight, hah hah," I joked. "But no really, I don't want to talk about it."

"I see that jumping is still all you think of, Bakagami," Shin-chan said, making himself the center of attention to relieve some of my discomfort. Kagami pursed his lips at Shin-chan, before sticking his tongue out and making a farting sound.

"Come on, let's get back to the game," Hyūga, Serin's clutch shooter and team captain suggested as he threw the ball directly at Kagami's head.

"Would you like to swap in?" Izuki offered.

"We came to –" Shin-chan stops awkwardly as his vocabulary fails him.

"We're here to hang out," I finished his sentence.

* * *

"Who's the player you hated being up against the most since entering high school?" Kagami asked as he completed an alley-oop begun by Kuroko.

Almost simultaneously, Shin-chan, Izuki, and I all answered with the same name, with no hesitation: Akashi.

Kuroko held the ball in one hand and thoughtfully scratched at his cheek with the other.

"He is a monster, but I think the worst player to be marked by is Takao-kun. He was the first one to see through my misdirection and that hurt."

"Oi, Kuroko," I said, mugging a huge smile, "You hurt my feelings and made me blush with the same sentence. That's not fair."

"Sorry, I just say what I feel," Kuroko shrugged and passed the ball to Kagami who started play again.

"What about you, Hyūga?" Kagami asked, making a fast break past Izuki.

"It's a toss-up, both were so utterly repugnant in different ways," he said and he backed tipped Kagami. No one was playing hard, it was more about trying out new techniques and I could see why they worked so well together as a team.

"Two? You're a greedy bastard having so many rivals," Kagami joked.

"Not rivals. You can't consider someone as unbalanced as Hanamiya a rival."

"I hate him too," Kuroko said in a strangely monotone voice for such a heated statement.

"Who do you hold in equal disregard with that psychopath?" Shin-chan asked.

"It's not nice to call people names," Kuroko said.

"Only other psychopaths are allowed to use the 'p' word." Shin-chan meant it as a joke, but I was the only one who laughed.

"Reo Mibuchi," Hyūga admited.

"Seriously?" I asked and cat-called Kagami as he took a bump pass from Kuroko and dunked the ball like he was repaying a great insult.

"What team is he from?" Kagami asked.

"He's an Uncrowned King from Rakuzan," Shin-chan answered. "You should pay more attention to players outside of the Generation of Miracles."

"What's so bad about him? I don't even remember him," Kagami ignored Shin-chan.

"The creepy pervert was hitting on me the whole game," Hyūga snarled as he stopped moving forward and got into position to shoot. "Yeah, ok, we're basketball players and we end up rubbing against other guys, but he was getting off on making me uncomfortable." Hyūga missed the shot and swore.

"That's unprofessional and un-sportsmen like," Shin-chan decided.

"And creepy as hell. Who wants some gay guy marking them?" Hyūga asked.

"Kuroko," Shin-chan said, "I've changed my mind, let me sub in for a while." He took of his Shūtoku jacket and unwound the tape on his shooting hand. Kuroko joined me on the bench and Kagami face twisted up as he realized he'd be partnered with him.

"As a fellow shooting guard, I'll mark Hyūga," he offered. Shin-chan was just as bad about dropping honorifics as Kagami, but he was a sexy hypocrite.

"He's a strong defender, not just a good shooter, Senpai. Be careful," Kagami warned.

"I'm not a 'good shotter', Bakagami. I am our generation's number one shooter," he boasted as he jigged around Hyūga and took the shoot from outside. It wasn't often that I could sit back and enjoy watching Shin-chan play. It was truly a beautiful shot with an undeniably perfect form. Hyūga tried to take that long hang time to answer back, but Shin-chan was on him in a moment, expertly blocking any attempt to pass the ball back to Izuki.

"The shot clocks running," Shin-chan taunted as Hyūga and Izuki danced for better position. Kagami blew around the blockage and took Izuki head on.

Shin-chan in the meantime, engaged Hyūga in a different kind of battle.

"I'm curious. Was it his sexuality that bothered you or his unprofessionalism?"

"Huh, well, I've never thought out it. Using sex against a mark, just seems like poor form."

"It would be the same then, if a straight athlete used his overt sexuality to distract – like one of those childish American taunts about sleeping with an opponent's mother."

"I guess I don't know," Hyūga admitted. "I've never played against anyone who did that, but I've also never been marked by a gay player before Reo."

Shin-chan allowed Hyūga to begin his shot before he blocked it, sending it spiraling toward Kagami.

"Tch, of course you have, how unobservant."

"Not every has Takao's hawk-eye or Izuki's eagle-eye," Kagami argued.

"You only need to be a good observer of human behavior," I said, "because our eyes aren't good for such thing."

"Whatever," Kagami dismissed.

"Takao-kun, you want to sub in for a while?" Izuki pleaded. Poor Izuki seemed nervous playing with the big boys.

"No, sometimes it's more fun to watch."

"Wait!" Hyūga shouted and I thought maybe, just maybe he'd finally gotten it. "Kise-kun's gay, right? He's totally got to be gay."

"No," both Shin-chan and Kuroko both deadpanned.

"Kise is simply an attention-whore," Shin-chan sighed.

"Again, it's not nice to call people names," Kuroko said.

"I never accuse anyone of behavior I am not also guilt of," Shin-chan said.

"You're an attention whore?" Kagami laughed.

"Only on the court. Otherwise I prefer to be left alone."

"Yeah, I can see that," Kagami shrugged.

"I'm curious about the gay players you're hinting at," Hyūga stopped play long enough to take a long swig on his water bottle.

"Duh, it's not that difficult…" I said.

"How long have you and Takao-kun been together, Midorima-kun?" Kuroko asked.

"Fifteen months," I said and at the same time, Shin-chan said, "A year and a half."

I couldn't help the laugh that barked out of my gut. The other guys looked back and forth between us.

"There's got to be a story behind those answers," Izuki chuckled.

"Takao," Shin-chan warned.

"The first three months were more unofficial," I demurred.

"A year and a half would put it right after last year's Winter Cup?" Kagami asked.

"Yes, after our lost to you at inter-high and our eventual third place victory at the Winter Cup, we recommitted ourselves to training and didn't have time for personal lives," I said and I could see that Shin-chan was grateful he didn't have to explain.

"You were unstoppable at the Kanto Cup," Kagami acknowledged.

"Our winning was inevitable, but the games would have been more interesting if the Iron Heart had been able to play," Shin-chan said and I was proud that he could answer compliment for compliment. "His loss was an obvious factor in your defeat."

"This year…" Hyūga warned.

"Yes?" I said. "This year? Are your first years any good?"

"Not as good as Teppei," Kagami admitted while Hyūga pretended his glasses needed cleaning.

"We have a new hook shooter," I offered. "He's not as good as Mitobe-kun, but he's energetic."

* * *

The only rule, we learned on that first Sunday, was that no score could be kept. Shin-chan of course knew exactly how many points he made, but at the end made no mention of it.

"We play every Sunday," Hyūga told Shin-chan. "Come play with us again, alright? And bring your hook shooter. We'll bring Mitobe."

"Perhaps, if our training schedule permits," Shin-chan replied.

"About those cracks earlier..." Hyūga said.

"Forget it," I said, slapping him on the shoulder. "You didn't know, but it doesn't changed anything, right?"

"No, we…I respect you as players, professionals, and sportsmen. I appreciate that neither of you are like that guy."

"It's how it should be. Our private life isn't for the court, it is for those close to us," Shin-chan answered. I saw Kuroko nod in acknowledgment of Shin-chan's obscured compliment.

"We do a mass text each week so we can know whose coming – you want in on that?" Kagami asked. I jumped off the bench and offered my phone, Shin-chan pulled his out as well.


	17. Chapter 17

POV Takao

When we walked in the front door, we didn't even have time to say we were home before Nobou and Keiko were there, checking us over.

"Are you alright, you're not hurt?" Nobou asked.

"Dad?" Shin-chan was frozen by his parent's panic.

"You didn't answer our many calls, we thought something had happened to you," Keiko told us, her hand clutched over her heart.

"I never answer my phone, why didn't you call Takao's cell?"

"We did, that's why we were so worried. Is your battery dead?" Nobou asked.

I took my phone from my jacket pocket and flipped it open. The battery life was at half-charge and the signal strength was fine. I hit the speed dial for Shin-chan's phone and it did nothing. I looked again at the display. It said: No Service.

"Oh, it looks like my networks down," I explained, showing those words to everyone in turn.

"What was so urgent that made you call in the first place?" Shin-chan asked.

"Takao's mother called. She asked us to have you call her. It was odd, she normally would call you herself, so I thought something must be wrong," Keiko said.

"She called here? Well maybe it was because I didn't answer when she called me because of the service outage."

"Why don't you use the phone in my study and call your provider and get some information on what they are doing to fix it. Then you can call your mother as well and let her know what's going on."

"Thanks, I'll do that. I'm sorry for all the trouble."

"No, we're just glad that both of you are safe," Keiko said.

* * *

Nobou's study was a comfortable nook of books interspersed with his collection of anatomical models. I sat at the desk and used the old-fashion corded phone to make the call while I used the modern computer to navigate to the provider's website while I waited on hold. There was no message about outages on home page. The operator came on the line after some time and took my name and phone number to look up the issue.

"I'm sorry sir, but this phone number has been disconnected by the primary account holder as of noon today. Perhaps you should…" I didn't hear anything else she said.

"Thank you," I said and hung up. At least my phone worked well enough as a digital address book and I looked up her phone number and dialed.

"Moshi, moshi," my mother answered.

"It's me," I said. "Why did you cancel my phone?" I saw movement as the door opened and Nobou came in with a plate of snacks and a drink. I nodded at him, knowing he'd heard my question. He put down the delivery and backed out of the room.

"I sent you a message this morning, did you not get it?"

"When did you send it?"

"I don't know, around 11:45, I guess," she answered.

"Fifteen minutes before you cancelled it? While I was in history class?"

"It's not like I had a choice, Kazu, I still haven't found a new job and I had to make a decision."

"Did you cancel Yukina's phone as well?"

"No, you are always with Midorima, I'm sure he can afford to let you use his phone for emergencies." I rubbed my eyes and leaned on my knees. "Rent is due soon as well, unless you want us to come back to your father?"

"No," I said, "no one wants that."

I switched to my bank's website as a horrible feeling awoke in the back of my mind. She continued to complain about the prices in Osaka and Yukina's new uniform costs. I logged into my account and noticed a withdrawal of ¥100,000 from this morning. I hadn't done that. Yukina yelled in the background and eventual Mom stopped talking and handed it over to my sister.

"Big Bro! I miss you," she squealed.

"You too, Little Bird. I think someone's going to have a birthday soon."

"I am, I am. Two weekends from now I'll be thirteen!" I felt old at seventeen. "I want you and Shin-chan to visit for my birthday. That's what I want for my present." That was the difference between my mother and sister; one distanced herself from the love of my life and the other embraced him.

"I don't know if we can afford it, but I'll try my best."

"Ok, but I really want you here. I joined the girls' basketball team. I'm going to be a point guard just like my big bro, but we suck and I want you two to help us. There's even a school holiday coming up. Please!"

"I promise I'll try. Good night Little Bird and say goodnight to Mom for me," I said and hung up.

Nobou was in the hallway and when he heard the phone replaced on the cradle, the door opened and he entered.

"I'm sorry I interrupted earlier, but I heard what you said. You were talking to your mother then, right?" He perched one hip, casually, on the corner of the desk. I tried to stand, but he waved me down.

"Yeah," I sat back and tried to fake a smile. No Midorima family member was tricked by that any longer. They knew me too well.

"We have a family plan, it will only cost an additional ¥500."

"I'm not…"

"Don't you dare say you aren't family," he scolded. "You are as much our son as any of children's spouses are." He cupped my ear with his hand and made me look at him.

"Yes, sir."

"You may not be used to this kind of family, but we will make sure you understand this isn't about obligation. We love you for you, not just for your commitment to Shintarō."

I couldn't answer him. All I'd ever wanted was for my parents to say such a thing.

"We'll be patient as you learn this new kind of familial love. But first things first, tomorrow morning I'll take you to buy a new phone. You like the one Shin-chan has, right? What a waste buying something like that for him."

"Yes, sir," I forced out of my mouth. Shin-chan was standing in the doorway.

"Or give him my phone, I never use it. I could easily do without," he offered.

"Takao-kun needs something of his own," Nobou said.

"Otousan," I tried out the word again and he smiled. "There's something else I need to do, first thing."

"Oh?" he said. Shin-chan came inside and closed the door, sitting in the chair across the desk from us, looking too large for such a small piece of furniture.

* * *

POV Midorima

Before I was even awake this morning, Dad has called the school and let them know that both of us will be late today. Takao is up before me too, or perhaps he never actually went to sleep, but either way, he nudges my shoulder at the agreed upon hour and tells me it is time to get ready. I rub sleep out of my eyes and go to the bathroom, getting ready with a strange kind of panicked calm.

"You're going to miss Oha Asa," my Dad says as I come out to the car. "You don't have to come –"

"Don't say such unnecessary things," I say. "If it is a choice between Takao and a lucky item, Takao will always win."

Dad is surprised, but happy at my saying. Takao is already in the backseat and Mom is in the front. I sit next to him. We are the first people in the bank's parking lot and Takao is too nervous to sit in the car any longer. He has his bank book, his card, and his stamp and he gets out. I go with him while Mom and Dad wait in the car.

"What if it's empty?" he asks, pacing.

"Check your balance on the ATM," I suggest and he dashes over to the machine. After the strike of a few keys, he lets out a long shuddering breath that he's been holding all morning.

"Same as last night."

* * *

When the bank opens, Takao and I head in immediately and he begins telling the woman behind the desk what he needs. Dad is with us before the request is complete. It takes about twenty minutes of checking paper work and identifications, but after that, Takao has his entire life savings in hand and the account is closed.

The drive to our bank is much less tense. Dad does all the work, Takao hands over the money, and in five minutes there is an account set up with the automatic withdrawal scheduled to make his payments on the 15th of the month to Shūtoku. The deposits will have to done through the school, but he is assured there will be no problems. Takao holds back ¥18,000 which he gives to Dad.

"I'm sorry it's not the right amount. Starting next month, it will be, I promise and I'll pay back the ¥2,000 as soon as I can," Takao apologizes bowing and holding out the money. Dad doesn't take it and after a long awkward moment, Takao's eyes raise from the ground to look at him.

"That money is supposed to come from your mother, not you," he says. "Keiko and I will speak to her once we get –"

"Otousan, please just take it. I don't want to move to Osaka. If you insist, she'll make me go there, get a job, and drop out of school. This is a small thing. Just take it." Dad's face softens when Takao calls him father.

"As soon as she gains employment, this is over. I will not allow her to hold you hostage," he says and puts the cash into his wallet. I have never seen both men, who are so very important to me, look so diminished. It makes me ill.

* * *

Next we go to our cellphone provider and add Takao to the plan. Takao's pride is damaged again and I can tell by the drool that he'd love to get the Xperia, but he insists that he wants to have the Galaxy Ace that matches mine. The only thing I can do is insist on paying for his phone and his portion of the very inexpensive fee on our family plan. When he looks like he will cry, I lean in and bump his shoulder with my arm.

"Unlike my father, I will let you pay me back," I say, making it sound conspiratorial, but not meaning it one bit. He looks relieved and the tears don't come.


	18. Chapter 18

POV Takao

"The neighborhood is certainly an improvement," Shin-chan said as we got off at the bus station Yukina has told me was closest to their new apartment.

"I don't think there is a worse neighborhood than the old one," I smirked. "But damn, if you wanted cheap sex with diseased prostitutes, it was like…a paradise."

The directions she emailed ahead to me were surprisingly clear and it was a short, pleasant walk.

"No stairs," I pouted, "I'm so jealous."

"Why? There are no stairs at our home?"

"It's the principal of the thing."

Yukina was at the window and as soon as she saw us, she bounced up and down and called to someone inside the apartment. She disappeared and when the door opened she rushed out, throwing herself into my arms.

"I've missed you," she squealed, kissing my check and then she spotted Shin-chan right behind me. She used my body as a ladder, climbing hand over hand, kicking me in the stomach as she threw her arms around his neck. Shin-chan sputtered, completely caught off guard, making me the middle of an uncomfortable sandwich. When she finally dropped off us, she grabbed Shin-chan's right hand and tugged him toward the door. My mother was standing in the doorway wearing an old robe and holding an unlit cigarette in her hand.

"I'm home," I said, knowing my smile was just as fake hers.

"Excuse the intrusion," Shin-chan said.

"You've got to do my nails," Yukina squeaked as she dragged him inside.

"Give it a break, Yukina, we only just got here," I said.

"No, now, before we run out of time!" she insisted.

"If you have your own nail care products, I will show you how to do them yourself. I am no manicurist…" Their voices disappeared down the hall.

"Wow, she's excited," I said when I was alone with my mother.

"What's he doing here?" she demanded, clicking her lighter opened and closed in a nervous tick.

"Yukina said she wanted both of us to come and work with her basketball club as her birthday present." I put my bag down by the table. The whole front room was one large space that contained living room and kitchen, just like our old apartment, but it was twice as large.

"You should have mentioned that to me," she complained.

"Yukina said –" My eyes cataloged the flat screen television on the wall.

"Yukina is a child, she will neglect details in order to get her way. You were going to have to sleep on the couch as it is, where the hell am I going to put that giant?"

"I'll sleep on the floor," I offered. Underfoot was a lush carpet that even in my socks felt like it was expensive. "Or I could sleep in that leather recliner."

"And food? Didn't I tell you that I still haven't found a job? And now I have to feed that freak of nature?"

"Stop it, Mom, we'll pay for our own food. Besides he doesn't eat as much as I do and we'll mostly be at Yukina's school. We won't be in the way. I promise."

"You're damn right you'll pay for your food, especially since you cleaned out the bank account without telling me," she sneered.

"I needed a bank closer to where I live now. It only made sense."

"You know your Aunt and Uncle are letting me stay here for free, right? I can't impose on their hospitality forever and having all these visitors will test the limits."

"I'm going to go check on Yukina and Shin-chan," I said and walked away from her.

* * *

There were two bedrooms on either side of a sumptuous bathroom. I averted my eyes from my mother's bedroom and instead went straight into the door with the happy birthday sign above it. Shin-chan was perched on the bed, his jacket discarded and his sleeves rolled up. In between his legs, my sister braced her back to his chest. Over her shoulder, he worked his magic on her nails with a file. This room was three times that of our last bedroom and she had no roommate.

"Metal nail files are inferior to glass; I suggest you purchase one if you are serious about maintain your nail health," he lectured. Yukina looked up as I came in, her mouth curved into a wicked grin.

"You steal my boyfriend and I'll murder you," I warned.

"Shin-chan's mine," she mugged, sticking out her tongue.

"I believe I have some say in this," he tutted.

"No, you don't," we both said.

* * *

Shin-chan treated the four of us to sushi when it became clear that my mother wasn't interested in feeding anyone. It was a tense sort of meal, at least for me, as my mother put on a fake smile and fawned over us, as if she suddenly cared. Shin-chan was distracted by Yukina's non-stop narrative about her basketball club and I was thankful that I don't have to hold up my end of the conversation. In the end, our sushi eaten, we went back to the apartment. Yukina was the first to fall asleep and I carried her to bed, before taking off her socks and tucking her in. My mother's door was closed when I returned to the living room. Shin-chan was staring at the pillow and blanket in his hands.

"I wasn't expected, was I?"

"Blame Yukina. Apparently she didn't bother mentioning she invited you as well."

"I believe demanded would be the better verb."

"You know what bossy little sisters are like," I dismissed.

"Should I go home? Or find a hotel? I don't want to inconvenience your family."

"If this is an inconvenience, what is living with your family?"

"Medicinal," he said, with no hint of joking. "Or maybe it would be better described as therapeutic."

"For me?"

"No," he pushed his glasses up, "for me."

"You take the couch," I said and went into the bathroom to change.

* * *

As I stripped out of my traveling clothing, I peeked inside the shower. Expensive bottles of shampoo and other bath products mocked me. The medicine cabinet, likewise held nail polish and perfumes that were not the ordinary drug store brands. When I got tired of feeling suspicious of her knew found money, I returned to the living room. Shin-chan was stretched out on the couch, his knees bent, and his feet sticking out between the cushions and the metal-framed arm. His glasses were neatly folded and placed a few inches under the couch where someone would have to intentionally try to break them. He'd already changed out of his pants in shorts. I flipped the light switch off and used the light that leaked in the window to cross the room. As I walked by him, he reached out blindly and caught my hand.

"There is enough room," he said and pulled on me. I didn't want to sleep on the floor or in the chair, I wanted to snuggle with him and forget how much I hated being here. When I remained still, but did not fight him, he used his superior weight to haul me down. I found that if I put my back to his chest and my head just below his chin, I could bend my knees at the same place he did. His right arm came under my head like a pillow and his left arm locked around my chest.

"Rest well, Shin-chan," I whispered.

"How can I not while next to you?"


	19. Chapter 19

POV Midorima

"Are they as bad as I think they are, or am I just being unfair?" he asks as I take off my glasses and massage the spot where nose pieces rub.

"No, they are worse." The coach is calling out encouragements even when the girls miss easy passes or simply fail to achieve a single basket during the first three minutes of play. This isn't like a game with Serin, where we might remain scoreless for an entire period. No, that is strategy and teamwork meeting our equally determined opposite. This is missed opportunities and skill-less play.

"Well," he grins, "at least they can't get any worse."

"I would not place a wager on that."

Yukina is attempting to restart play after the ball goes out-of-bounds. She picks, for her throw in, to toss it two-handed over the head of an unguarded player to a slightly taller girl further in. She fumbles the uncontrolled throw and one of the girls wearing a blue jersey takes the ball. Her momentum stalls when she dribbles the ball off her foot.

"Let's start with dribbling. If they can't move with the ball, there's no point," I suggest.

"Agreed," he says and claps his hands to get the teams' attention. The coach has given us free rein, not because Takao is the captain of one of Three Kings of Tokyo, but because I am a member of the Generation of Miracles. It is insulting to his skills. Not everyone can become a partner to someone like me. It is one of many aspects of her behavior that annoys me, but is the thing that makes me grind my teeth.

"Alright!" Takao says, his energy is high and positive, even though I know he is as dispirited as I am. "We're gonna start with some basic drills."

The girls' collective groan is loud.

"If you put as much energy into your skills as you do complaining, I promise you will improve by the end of the weekend," I tell them.

* * *

We keep them broken up into two teams. I take the taller students and begin with the basics of lay-ups and shooting. Takao takes the others and begins with dribbling and passing. After each group begins to find their stride, I can see that the improvement is vast. No one has ever taught these girls that pride should come with accomplishment, but as Takao and I praise successful attempts, I hope they will understand that merit is its own reward.

In my first group, I find two girls who may become the team's centers. They are not the tallest of the girls, but their jumping is impressive. I will see if I can find videos of Kagami's exploits to share with them. He may be a good inspiration, even though he is a power forward.

We switch groups and Yukina is now with me. She is eager and enthusiastic. It is her vision that leads this team, but she is not suited for the position of point guard. She wants to emulate her brother, a noble goal, but it will not benefit this team in the long run. She does not share Takao's hawk eye and it is not a skill one can cultivate. She may very well be the emotional core of the team, but she will never be the play maker and coach on the court.

Takao's group is celebrating some minor victory in their drills. I watch Yukina shoot. Her form is rough, but I can work with rough.

"Yukina, have you consider any position other than point guard?"

"Why?" she asks and she looks like I've kicked her. If she cries I have no idea what I will do. I've learned to tolerate Kaori's emotional outbursts, but other young female are a complete mystery to me.

"I've watched you and I think you, unlike some of your teammates, you could lead the team as the shooting guard," I tell her and she looks a little less like water works are imminent and I push on. "Without scoring, your team will only come so far."

"But won't brother be sad?" She looks at her feet, but her hands are gripping the ball as if it belongs.

"I think his preference for shooting guards is clearly established."

"Was that a joke, Shin-chan?" she laughs.

* * *

Yukina and Soon-bok accompany us to the station in the evening. The team has a new training menu and Yukina is feeling very positive in her new position. I think it has been a rather successful weekend.

Soon-bok takes advantage of the moment Yukina and Takao turn their attention to a video clip I have acquired of Kagami to say her first words to me the entire trip.

"Do me a favor," she says. Neither of us are big at looking other people in the eye and if you weren't there next to us, you'd never know we are conversing.

"Oh?"

"Can you wait until he's at college to break up with him? I really can't afford for him to come live with us again. At least if he's away at college, he'll be taken care of."

The voices in my head tell me I should push her into the next on-coming train, but Takao would disapprove.

"Do you hate him that much?" I ask, surprised that I am this rude to an adult.

"Children are a curse," she spits. "Two children are doubly so."

"All Kazunari wants is love and acceptance," I say. She finds the ease in which I say his name surprising. I intend to thank my parents for being the wonderful, supportive people they are as soon as we get home. "Since he cannot find it with you, I will gladly fill that void. If you bothered to try, even in the smallest of ways, you'd know that he is a gift."

"You'll get bored with him," she predicts and lights her cigarette.

"I very much doubt that."

"Ah, I see he hasn't put out for you yet, at least he listened to me about that," she chuckles.

* * *

Takao kisses his sister's cheek and hugs his mother as we prepare to board the train. I sag into the first available seat and he groans as he sits beside me.

"What did my mother say to you?"

"Nothing worth repeating."

"She didn't say –" he stops mid-thought as I press my lips against his. I've been waiting for the proper moment to follow my mother's advice and today's forecast for Cancer is high, followed closely by Scorpio. Oha Asa's words bounce around my memory. "Don't be afraid tell the truth today. Someone needs to hear how you really feel."

He is speechless for a moment, which for Takao is rare, and his authentic smile lights up his eyes.

"That was a nice surprise, Shin-chan."

"Takao, I want you to know…," I begin. My stomach twists into knots. For all my elegance and composure on the court, in real life I am a mess. He waits, his eyes glued to mine.

"Its ok, Shin-chan, I know," he says and leans back so that his head rests on my shoulder.


	20. Chapter 20

Author's note: I'm looking for a Beta Reader.

* * *

POV Takao

When I came to breakfast that morning, there was a note on top of my plate. Kaori stared at me from across the table as she watched me see it and lift it to read. I took a sip of my tea and tried to ignore her intensity which mirrored Shin-chan's in almost every way. The inside of the note was a series of very pedestrian questions: name, birth date, parent's names, blood type, but they went on in her perfect penmanship for the entire page.

"It's for a homework assignment, please answer the questions thoughtfully and completely," Kaori said, barely raising her voice enough to be heard. She handed me a pencil and I guessed that meant I was supposed to do it now.

Full Name: 高尾 和成  
Age: 17  
Birthday: November 21  
Blood Type: O

I only got half way through before Shin-chan breezed in and joined us at the table. He saw me writing and I nodded toward his sister, indicating it was her fault. He rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything as he switched on the morning broadcast for Oha Asa.

"Today's forecast looks good for Leos. Make sure you have the proper equipment and you can't go wrong. Libras will be at an all-time high in creativity. Gemini..."

I went back to work on the questionnaire, answering questions about my family, favorite color, foods, books, movies, sports until I'd finally finished it up. I doubled-checked my answers when she gave me a suspicious glare and then handed it to her. She immediately read them and then nodded once as she folded it into her notebook and left the table.

"What was that about?" I asked Shin-chan, but he wasn't paying attention. "Shin-chan?"

"Ah, you weren't paying attention, were you?" he asked as if I hadn't just been trying to get his attention.

"No, I sure wasn't. I was doing your sister's homework."

"I will procure our lucky items. We're going to need them today."

* * *

Kaori sat at the table doing her homework while I washed the dishes and Shin-chan dried them. Once the last soapy dish was handed over, I dried my hands and wandered over to the table, where Kaori was drawing so furiously, she didn't even notice me standing over her shoulder to watch.

"Is that me?" I asked. Her cellphone was open to the photo app and she was sketching from a photo she had taken without my knowledge. In it I was sitting with my legs drawn up with a book resting on my knees. She finished a few more sweeps of her pencil, then looked up at me.

"Yes."

"Oh, ok. You're pretty good. Do you want to be a manga-ka someday?"

"Yes."

"Ah, that's really cool. What's the story about?" I asked, pointing at her notebook.

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"Why me?"

Her mouth turned down in a frown as she realized she would have to use more than one complete sentence to answer me. She sighed and put down her pencil as if resigning herself to the fact that I was use to bad Midorima behavior and was unlikely to relent.

"The assignment was to write about something life-changing that happened in our family in the last year. I did not want to re-hash my time in the hospital, so you moving in with us what the next biggest thing to happen. Thus the story is about you."

"You have a pretty voice," I told her, having never heard her say so many things at once. She glared at me in response. "Can I see it, once you're done?"

"Yes."

* * *

Now that I was paying attention, I caught Kaori snapping pictures of me on the sly all week.

"You know, you could just ask if you need me to pose for you or something."

"Candid pictures are better," she said and I went back to my homework, wondering if that was how Kise felt all the time. I sent him a text, asking how he was doing, since I was thinking of him.

[Takaoicchi! aww thanx for asking. i'm ok. PT is going well & fan girls keep bringing me food and presents.]

[lol, you'll get fat if you eat all that crap]

[i don't eat any of it. i get the nurses to take it down to the ward and give it out to people who don't have visitors]

[that's nice of you]

When there was no reply for fifteen minutes, I put my phone away.

* * *

I was sitting in the kitchen, enjoying the sun coming through the open window and working on Coach's new training menu form with my lucky item of the day - a blue-ink fountain pen - when Kaori appeared at my elbow.

"It's done...my manga," Kaori told me clutching the notebook to her chest.

"Cool, can I see it?" I asked, holding out my hand.

"Do you like manga?" she ignored me.

"I do."

"Are you going to be judgmental?" When I looked at her, into her eyes, I saw a little something of what Shin-chan had hinted to in his younger days. He said I wouldn't have wanted to know him like that, and I thought I finally understood why when I saw the suspicion and distrust in her green eyes.

"I hadn't planned on being. Why?"

"I'm worried you won't like the subject matter."

"Ah, well as long as it's not a yaoi story about me and your brother, I think it will be fine."

Her eyes got very wide and my heart raced as I thought about what could be in that book.

"I would never..." she whispered.

"I was just kidding," I said, relieved. "May I see it?"

She nodded and handed me the book. I sat down at the table and she sat so close to me that I could feel her breath rustle my hair.

The first page had text across the top. It said: "My new brother Kazu use to live with his family."

Under the caption, the drawing was of me with my knees drawn up and my arms wrapped around them. I was alone in a smoky room. Behind me was an ominous darkened doorway with a single mote of light and I was surrounded by broken bottles, empty food containers, and a sad-looking teddy bear, leaking stuffing. From off scene, in the margins, was a line of text that said: "Where are you hiding it, you little..."

I'd never told her, nor her brother, nor their parents about the accusations my father would make when he was drunk and out of booze, but I'd heard those words before. I repressed a shiver and flipped to the second page.

"In the beginning," the narration continued on the first page of the two-page spread, "Kazu is as like a broken toy." The figure in the panel that fills the space was me drawn like a marionette. My strings were loose and broken or snarled and tangled. My shoulder was disjointed from the rest of me and she showed that it spun freely with a motions lines beneath it.

"But he doesn't fight us when we try to fix him," said the second panel's blurb. I was still a marionette, but now the family surrounded me and my strings were all straight and whole. My eyes were vacant. Otousan was dressed in his doctor scrubs, an old-fashion reflector on his head and a stethoscope in his ears, the other end was pressed against my chest. "His pulse is good," it said in the balloon coming from his mouth. Okasan had a bowl of water and a cloth and she was moping my head and face clean. "See, he cleans up well," her dialogue read. Shin-chan was there at my hand, wrapping each finger with bandages like his own. My other hand was charred, as if burned. "Even this will heal," were his words.

I turned the page and the next spread was broken into smaller panels. There we were, at the kitchen table that first night eating rice. There were still strings on my arms, but the handle above my head was gone. Then there was me and Otousan as he handed me a present. There was a look of surprise on my face and for the first time I had dialogue. "I don't deserve -" but my words were cut off. "You are our son now," the Otousan character scolded me. The next frame was me, eyes comically manga large, with a glint of light reflecting off the tears collecting on my cheek. I had to admit, if I wasn't the subject of this work, I'd be gushing about how good it was, but I found it difficult to praise my pain.

The next page was a series of drawings where the strings dissolved away and the look in my eyes became more animated, less doll-like, until I became a real person. On the last page was Shin-chan and me, together in the garden. We were leaning against each other, my head was on his shoulder and our fingers were laced together. He was drinking a can of red bean soup while I was tossing pellets to the koi. My smile was timid, but I looked happy for the first time in the manga's pages.

"My new brother Kazu lives with us now and he is safe," it said underneath us. I closed the notebook and took a few seconds to compose my thoughts.

"I didn't realize you knew so much about what happened to me," I said finally, amazed at how composed my voice sounded.

"I didn't until I started researching you. Mom said your dad was an alcoholic and I read about what other people said that was like. I've seen your scars," she put her hand on my back on top of my shirt, just above where those marks she spoke of lived, "but I wanted to show your face, so I changed it to be your hands. I hope you don't mind."

"No," I whispered. The only time she'd touched me in these short months living with the Midorima family was when she was in the hospital, so the gesture was strange and alien.

"Should I change anything? I won't ask you if you liked it, but is it ok?"

"Yeah," I turned and smiled at her. "It's good. You did a great job and when you start publishing manga, I hope you'll publish this one too."

"Really?"

"Yes. It's amazing, you are amazing."

"Ok," she said and took the close notebook from between my hands.

"May I have a copy of the reference photo you took for that last page?"

"I'll email it to you now," she said and left the room.

"It was good, wasn't it?" Shin-chan said from where he stood, hovering in the kitchen door. "She showed me first. She was afraid that it would upset you."

"Yeah, I was surprised at how good she was at capturing that whole time."

"She's very talented," he said. "How about I get a basketball and we go play some one-on-one?"

"That sounds like a good idea," I said and stood and as I did, my legs gave out and I tumbled back down to my knees, tears streaming down my face.


	21. Chapter 21

POV Midorima

On the first day of November, Takao comes into the bedroom and sits beside me while I work on my English homework.

"Will you pronounce this word for me?" I ask, pointing at the combination of English letters that resemble gibberish to me. English is his best subject and I know that his pronunciation is better than the teachers.

_"Flower,"_ he says quickly. _"Flou-er."_

_"Fa –"_

"No," he corrects. He makes a series of stuttering sounds, exaggerating the shape of his mouth and the placement of this tongue. _"Flou-er."_

"Never mind," I say, closing the primer and pulling out my mathematics textbook. Numbers are much easier to comprehend for someone with OCD. They make sense every time, they follow rules, they – he's looking at me with one eyebrow raised and I think he's disappointed, but then he shakes his head with a trademark smirk. He waits until I finish with the current question before he speaks.

"Shin-chan," he says and he's wearing a determined expression on his face that I predict will either get me in trouble or annoy me. "I know what I want for my birthday."

"If it includes intimate behavior in an inappropriate place, you can forget about it," I answer blandly, hoping he will pick up on the humor and lighten up a little. I have no easy way of telling him that his intensity bothers me, I have to hope that he understands my attempt at levity.

"No, this is serious Shin-chan, all jokes aside," he says. He understands that I am uncomfortable, but it seems like this is so important to him that he must continue. I put down my pencil and give him my full attention. I've already purchased a necklace for him that matches mine, so whatever he wants, if it is a physical item, I can to pass along to my parents or Kaori. If it is something less intrinsic, I will of course, do my best to –

"I want you to promise me," he says, cutting off my introspection, "that this year you'll do your best to make sure everyone ignores my birthday. I want this November 21st to pass completely un-remarked. I don't want cake, presents, cards or well wishes. I want that Friday to be like any other Friday – nothing special."

"But it's your –"

"I realize it's completely selfish, especially since you'll have to convince a lot of people – family, our team, our friends – that this is exactly what I want. Next year, do whatever you want, but this year I want to have a sort of…palate cleanser. Birthdays haven't always been happy for me and I just want some distance."

I look away from the pleading in his eyes toward the top drawer of the dresser. His necklace has been hiding there since the day after my birthday, when I purchased it. I am annoyed that he spent that much on my present and I will not be allowed to reciprocate. I can't help the sigh that forms in my chest and bubbles out of my lungs.

"Alright, I don't understand it at all and I already purchased your present, but I'll put it aside for next year. If this is what you really want, I'll get on it right away."

"Thank you Shin-chan," he says and leans forward to kiss me. I don't respond fast enough and his lips are gone before I have a chance to kiss him back. Then he's up and gone from the room. There will be many people upset with me, including the committee I put together to plan his party, but I am used to having people irritated with me.

I spend the next twenty minutes composing a message to go out to the team and our few friends. It takes me all that time to write it out by hand, edit it, re-edit it, and then vacillate between sending in out by mass text or emailing it. I type the carefully chosen words into a text, making sure auto-correct doesn't embarrass me.

[I regret to inform you that ALL plans regarding Takao's birthday are now cancelled. For his birthday, Takao wants absolutely nothing - no cards, no wishes, no presents, no cake. The party is now CANCELLED.]

I have to talk myself into sending it. It feels wrong on some many levels and if I intrinsically know it is a mistake, how can he not? But the memory of his eyes and the promise I made compels my finger to hit send.

I get six or seven responses in minutes. Most of them are asking me if this is some sort of "Ace-sama joke" and if it is, I am told, "it isn't funny." Instead of addressing them separately, I send yet another mass text.

[I apologize for any confusion and no, this isn't a joke. Per Takao's request, his birthday is cancelled.]

There are no responses for long enough that I think the matter is closed, but it isn't.

Kagami replies to all with a single question: [Why?]

Anger is not one of the emotions I am comfortable with, but when I read his text, I want to throw my phone across the room. I type [Die], my usual, rote response, but I backspace leaving the blank screen to mock me. I put the phone down and go after Takao. I don't know 'why' and he is the only one I can ask for help with these confusing emotions.

Takao is in the garden helping Dad replant the avocado trees into larger pots. They sit side by side, chatting in low, but animated tones. Takao brushes his hair back and leaves a trail of dirt across his brow. Dad wipes it away and Takao laughs; it's not that fake, mechanical sound that I hate. I will not ruin his happiness, even to make myself comfortable. I back out the way I came, without either noticing my presence, and go back to the waiting phone. I am calmer now, as if his smile is a cure for my anger.

Two more texts echo Kagami's. Akira and Kasamatsu both wonder if I will answer them, if I won't answer Kagami.

[Please respect his privacy and his reasons. If he changes his mind, I will let you all know. The subject is now closed. Thank you.]

Only one person does not take that answer and his text comes privately.

[Midoirmacchi! Is Takao ok?]

I feel fully justified in answering him back [Die].

* * *

Thank you to my Beta Reader Andarkness23.

Also, Sara - if you are reading this can you send me message at kazunarimidorima . I can't respond to guest reviews.


	22. Chapter 22

POV Takao

Shin-chan was out running in the cold on the last December day while Kaori and I ate in companionable silence in the kitchen. There were three plates set because 8 am was fast approaching and we all knew he'd be back before the Oha Asa broadcast. I'd already finished my miso soap and most of the rice, but I had a tamagoyaki left on my plate. Frankly the grated daikon was a bit much for me, but I did it one bite at a time as Okasan smiled at me from the other side of the kitchen as she prepared Shin-chan's serving.

"I'm so glad we have you here, Kazu-kun," Okasan said and I ducked my head and smiled.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"It is especially exciting today, isn't it, Kaori. Finally, we have five family members for the five rooms!"

Kaori said nothing, but her eyes grew wide.

"What –" I began to ask, but Kaori reached across the table and put her hand on my arm and shook her head in a strange stuttering motion.

"Yes, Mom, it will be great." She looked at me and made a face that said it would be anything but great. "Ask brother, in private."

There were three bites left of my tamagoyaki when Shin-chan rushed into the kitchen. I turned on the television and he swept into his chair as his mother slipped a plate in front of him. As she turned away, he took the remains off my plate and popped them in his mouth. I smiled my thanks.

"Today's a lucky day for Taurus. Planning comes naturally to you; make sure you use all your resources wisely and you will ensure a prosperous New Year…" I tuned out and took my dishes to the sink, where I washed my plate.

"It will be a trying day for the water symbols Cancer, Scorpio, and Pisces," the voice continued. Well, that meant Shin-chan, myself, and Otousan were about to have a crappy day, at least in Oha Asa's prediction. "Make sure you keep your lucky items close to you all day. Libra should play it safe and find a quiet corner to…"

"Right," Shin-chan announced and slurped back the rest of his miso, clearing his plate. "I'll go find out what our lucky items are. We can't take chances today. Did you tell him?" He directed the last comment to his sister, who shook her head and gestured to their mother.

"Shintarō? After you've done with that, I'd like you to join me in the garden so we can put the finishing touches on today's plans, so don't dawdle."

Shin-chan looked paler by the second, but he rose from the table. As he was leaving the room he stopped at his sister's side.

"I'll get your lucky item too, if you tell him," he said, staring at her with fear in his eyes. I started to get nervous as she bit her lip, weighing the options.

"Alright," she agreed. We sat at the table, not saying a word. The food in my stomach started to feel like a bad idea. As Okasan left the room, Kaori ran to the door and made sure she was gone.

"Shintarō comes by his OCD naturally," she says in her halting, shy voice.

* * *

"So, let me recap," I said as Kaori sat across from me in the kitchen. "Okasan gets a little crazy about New Years and everything has to be cleaned before midnight. We'll each be assigned our own bedroom and one other room in the house. Ok, I totally don't get what's so bad about that."

"You will," she said. Getting answers from her was almost as hard as getting a genuine laugh out of her brother. She felt I was properly warned, no matter what confusion I still felt, and she left the room.

* * *

We regrouped in the living room.

"Did she tell you?"

"I think so, but I don't get it; this house is spotless. What's the –" he stopped me as his parents entered the room. She had a box of clipboards and he carried a crate of supplies.

"Good morning again, family," Okasan began. "I'm very excited that we have Kazu-kun here to help us this year. We should finish at a good time so that we can get to the Shrine early and greet the rising sun."

There was a general murmur of agreement from the Midorima family members surrounding me. She ignored the less than enthusiastic response and took up the first set of clipboards. She handed one to her husband, to Shin-chan, and then Kaori. I peaked at Shin-chan's and it said in clear handwriting across the top of the page: Bedroom Checklist.

The entire page was filled with things that had to be done, from the very mundane airing out of the futons and changing the sheets, to the very specific like vacuuming the inside of the drawers. He saw me looking at the sheet with an increasing awareness of how long these tasks would take and then he flipped the page to show me there were two more below the first.

"Kazu-kun, since this is your first year doing this with us, Shintarō and I agreed that you will be given first choice for the shared room that will be your responsibility." I looked up at him and saw the slight inclination of his head as he gestured to the box with additional clipboards waiting.

"Um, ok," I said. "What are my choices?" Shin-chan left my side to stand behind his mother.

"The hall bathroom," she said and Shin-chan shook his head so subtly I almost missed it. "The garden…" He shook his head with more emphasis. "The kitchen…" There was almost panic in his green eyes at those words. "Or the living room." He nodded reluctantly.

"I'll take the living room," I said, hoping that whatever this meant, he hadn't betrayed me. Kaori pouted. Okasan handed me a clipboard and I flipped through the four pages of tasks.

"Shin-chan, you had the garden last year…" she said.

"I'll take the bathroom," Kaori said quietly, raising her hand.

"Thank you, Kaori," she said and handed over the clipboard. It was considerably larger than mine. Shin-chan shot Kaori a glare such as I had not seen since our last match against Razukan.

"That leaves you with the kitchen or the garden, Shintarō. Which would you prefer?"

He schooled his features as Okasan turned her attention back to him.

"I'll take the garden. My lucky item will work best in the garden," he scrambled to pull on the baseball cap.

"Yes, you certainly can't wear that inside," she agreed and handed over his clipboard which was almost thick enough to be a manga. "Nobou, here are your assignments," she said and hefted the largest of the clipboards out of the bottom of the box and handed it to her husband.

* * *

Thanks again to by Beta Reader - Andarkness23


	23. Chapter 23

Sexual situations appear after the third gray line.

* * *

POV Midorima

"Now I get it," Takao says as he looks for a place to collapse.

"Outside," I say, pointing to the open door to the porch. He gives me a wounded puppy dog look, but I point again with more emphasis. "If you get anything dirty before she does the inspection, I will smoother you in your sleep."

His eyes widen and he looks at me, trying to gauge whether or not I'm serious.

"I will sacrifice you if need be," I warn and he totters outside and slumps on the steps. I bring him a can of soup and he sits up just enough to drink it. I can hear Mom going through the house, double-checking our lists. She has already finished the bedrooms and is making her way from the back of the house to the front. Takao groans as his sweaty hair falls in front of his eyes. I reach out to push it back, but instead he leans into my chest and closes his eyes with a soft sigh.

"Every year?" he asks.

"Every year and we'll be expected to go out to the shrine as soon as she's done and we've changed."

"I don't know if I can move," he complains.

"You'll find the strength, I'm sure. We'll have dinner out first and you won't want to miss that," I encourage him. "I'm so hungry I could die."

"I don't have anything to wear to a shrine; just bring me back something."

"Mom's altered one of Dad's hakama for you; she will brook no excuses. Just deal with it."

"But my shoulders hurt," he whines with a wide grin. I push him away and swing my legs around so that he is sitting between my knees. I knead the muscles of his neck and he groans and loses some of his tension immediately, falling forward so his elbows rest on his knees. He is slick with sweat, but so am I and it hardly makes much difference. I tug his collar down to get at the deeper muscles, but he makes a choking sound and I respond with an annoyed 'tch' in the back of my throat. He sits upright for long enough to pull the damp shirt over his head and then wilts again, exposing the long expansive of his bare back down to the top of his hips.

"It's 11°, I hardly think it's a good idea to be exposed in this weather."

"Then don't think," he says.

We've been intimate, we've showered in the same locker room, and shared a bath at the onesen, but this is the first time I've been invited to look on his naked flesh with my glasses on. There is a scar just below his left clavicle, it looks like a burn, and a dusting of freckles that dance across his shoulders. It is a strong back that has endured much and his muscles are lovely to look at. I follow the line of his spine, sinking my thumbs into the deep recesses on either side, and continue the massage.

"You've been doing more back work?" I ask.

"Coach has me working the kettlebell hard," he says with his chin dropped to his chest, muffling the words.

"I can see the results of your hard work," I praise.

"Mmm." I despise when he dismisses my compliments, but it is more exhaustion than humility that mums his tongue now.

"The living room is perfect, Kazu-kun. You two should shower and change," Mom calls as she moves to check Kaori's progress on the hallway bathroom. We haven't heard a sound from there for hours and I fear my sweet little sister is the year's last casualty. Takao yawns and stretches before flopping back against me. He gazes up and back at me.

"Is it safe to use your bathroom?" he asks.

"How many times must I insist that it is our bathroom?"

"Apparently a few more," he laughs.

"Yes, once her inspection is complete, we may move about the house as normal. You may use the shower first, if you'd like."

"I know she didn't mean it that way, but when she said we two should shower and change, I pictured us together, under the same spray."

I don't know how to respond.

"I know it's not possible, but some day…"

"We'll wait until everyone is asleep," I say and he looks at me with hooded eyes and grins.

* * *

The bell rings one hundred and eight times as the year closes and the next begins. Dad has three red envelopes this year. He gives Kaori hers first and she rips the seal off without even pausing to express her thanks. She grins with joy as she sees the clean new 10,000 yen bill.

"Mom, I want to go buy that dress tomorrow," she says, her volume is a little louder than normal in her excitement. It is charming.

I don't open mine when Dad hands it to me, but rather I put it inside my robe. Whatever is in it, it is more than enough. It will join the otoshidama I have received for the past eighteen New Year's untouched in the bottom drawer, my rainy day savings that I've finally thought of a reason to raid. And that reason is standing next to me, his hand in mine, and I wonder what I can buy with that money that will bring him the most happiness.

The third envelope, Dad hands to Takao, who steps back to avoid it. He shakes lose my hand, but I step behind him, cutting off his escape. I am risking the loss of an intimate encounter by my actions, but I am sick of his sidestepping my family's love for him.

"If you don't take it, it will be a huge insult to Keiko and the New Year's traditions," Dad says with a wink. "Besides, it's important to start the next year with some pocket-money."

Takao takes the envelope two-handed and bows over it.

"Thank you, very much."

* * *

My parents toast the first morning sun with sake while Kaori, Takao, and I raise cans of our favorite drinks. Not long afterwards, Kaori falls asleep against my back and I carry her home. Homemade osechi-ryori greet us on the kitchen table as we enter, along with paper plates and cups so that we will not have to take the risk of cleaning away all the luck we garnered yesterday. But all this will have to wait until after a long sleep. Mom and Dad kiss my cheek and then turn their love toward a humbled and blushing Takao.

I deposit Kaori in her bed and she doesn't even stir at the rough treatment. When I return to our room, Takao is waiting for me, silhouetted in the doorway to the bathroom.

"I'm all sweaty after all that walking. I think I need another shower," he teases in a low purr as he pushes his hair out of his face.

"Yes," I reply, my voice sounding husky. "Perhaps I should as well. Shower, that is." My cheeks are hot, thinking about how stupid I must sound. He takes pity on me and forces my mouth closed with a tender kiss.

* * *

The shower stall is utilitarian. It is only large enough that with my back to the one wall and with my fingers stretched at full-length, I can barely touch the other side. Takao takes the place directly under the downpour shower head, but it is so wide and forceful that it covers me in water in seconds. He has his palms flat on the wall in front of him and he leans forward, one leg bent more than the other. He lifts his face to the water.

"Will you wash my back?" he asks.

I take the bottle of liquid soap and I drizzle it on his skin where it mixes with the sheets of water pouring off him. He is mostly a blur, but I remember the scar and my fingers find it easily.

"How did this happen?"

"Hmm?"

"This scar."

"Oh, hmm, I think it happened when I taught myself to ride a bike." He's lying, but I'm not sure if he believes what he is saying. I add another squirt of soap and I run my hands over his shoulders.

"What about these?" I ask, tracing the pock mark scars along his chest. His head tilts forward and the water rains down hard on his neck. "If you don't want to talk about it, don't make something up, just say so."

"I don't want to talk about it," he says. I memorize the placement of the scars, but I don't push for more information. Not everything has to be shared; a bit of mystery is alright, as long as he is forever away from the people I'm sure put those marks on him. I continue to stroke soap down his flanks and around to his flat toned abs and then down further. His penis is already hard and my fingers are still slicked by the soap. I take him in my left hand because I know that he regards those digits as priceless and it is an easy way to spoil him.

It is remarkable, the feeling of him sliding between my fingers is the same way that he slides inside me. I move close behind him, I want him to feel how excited I am from the simple action of bathing with him. He moans, his arms quiver, and he collapses forward. He turns his face to lay one cheek against the tile and his mouth forms a silent "o." There is just enough room between him and the wall to continue my ministrations and I am completely under the stream now as I support his wobbly legs with my knees. My right hand is trapped between his chest and the wall; his heart beat is so different from mine and I feel it accelerate as he comes.

For someone who has had an orgasm, he moves incredibly fast and before I can think, he is on his knees, his mouth is around my penis. The water has turned cold and I worry as it streams down his back. I can barely reach, but I fiddle with the taps until the steam rises and the shower is once again filled with hot water.

His hands are on my cheeks; this time he starts with two fingers inside me, stretching me as he spreads them apart. It feels so good, I cannot believe there is anything more left, but then he moves in, deeper, more aggressively, and I feel the caress of the back of his throat against my engorged flesh. He gags and I try to pull away, but he pushes forward and when he swallows, dragging me partially down his throat…

When I can think again, I am slumped on top of him and he is either scared or in pain, or both. I quickly lift off him and we sink to the bottom of the shower stall; the water is barely warm.

"When you fainted…" he begins. "I couldn't hold you up, I wasn't strong enough and all I could think of was how you and Aomine had to carry Kise to the stretcher together. If you fall, I…"

"Then get stronger," I suggest. "Coach can give you a strength training menu on top of your flexibility and stamina regime."

* * *

Thanks to my Beta Reader Andarkness23!


	24. Chapter 24

POV Midorima

"Cancers should take care. If you make plans today, prepare to have them fail. Keep your Lucky Item close and take things in stride to make the most of a bad day," the chipper voice on the broadcast tells me as I force down the last bit of my breakfast.

"I hate how she delivers bad predications with the same tone as good ones," Takao scoffs. For once, I can't disagree with his disparaging remarks about the Oha Asa broadcast. Whenever I don't respond, he thinks I am sulking.

"Well, um…at least today's Lucky Item is easy. I'm sure you must have a green notebook somewhere in all those school supplies you've collected," he says, trying to appease me.

"I don't know," I answer. I should reassure him that I am not annoyed with him. I should tell him that my emotional distance is unrelated, but somehow, all I can think about is the first day of our third, and final, year of high school. Last year, Takao and I were in separate classes, and if I have to endure that again, I will – no. I stop that train of thought. It is counter-productive. Oha Asa said I should make no plans. I squeeze Takao's shoulder as I leave the table in search of our Lucky Items. His ranking is poor – not as poor as mine – but at least our compatibility is high.

* * *

Takao peaks into the shed as I search through the bin of school supplies. I can see he is holding something behind his back, but he does not offer to show it to me, so I continue with my task.

"No luck?" he asks with a cheeky grin. Spending time with Serin's Point Guard at those Sunday afternoon games is rubbing off on him.

"No. It seems I have red, blue, purple, yellow, and pink, but no green. Strange…Anyway, Oha Asa suggested that I take things as they come. Perhaps we can stop…no, I'm not supposed to make plans. May I leave the acquiring of my Lucky Item to you today?" I look at him and he is smirking.

"Yes, Shin-chan; I've got your back. It's not new or anything, but you can put it in your school bag and everything will be fine," he says, and shows me the green notebook he's been hiding behind his back.

"Why didn't you just give it to me right away?" I ask, truly confused as to why he would allow me to continue searching, when he's already found the item.

"It's my basketball journal. I've had it since that game in middle school," he says, and his voice is soft enough that I have to move closer to hear him. "It's kind of embarrassing. I started keeping track of my stats versus yours so I could work on my improvement. So, I…if you'd found an alternative, I would have gladly put this back in my bag and not had this conversation, but you didn't, and I know how important this is to you, so here, I want you to take good care of this today."

He shoves the notebook at me and flees from the shed. I am left holding the notebook and I'm confused/stunned at the sacrifices he is willing to make for me.

On the way back into the house, I clip a blossom from the sakura tree. Takao's Lucky Items are always easy to acquire and this is unfair, at least in my mind. He has come to learn that if I give him a Lucky Item, it is for my benefit more than his and he usually rolls with it.

"Very pretty," he says, chuckling, "but you really don't need to give me flowers."

"It's your Lucky Item," I scold.

"Um, well," he says, staring at the delicate pink petals.

"What's the problem?"

"I don't know what to do with it. I don't have a button hole to put it in and it will look kinda girly behind my ear," he says, looking confused.

"This from a man wearing my sister's headband? You could have had a haircut. Dad offered to lend you the money." I do not like the trend of men wearing women's hair accessories, especially on him. I'd rather he just cut his hair like a normal person.

"I'll get a haircut when my next payment comes in. I don't want to owe your family any more money than I already do," he says. He sticks the sakura into his breast pocket and shrugs.

"I think the problem is that you fail to realize that you don't owe us money. You refuse to take an allowance from my parents, and you do more than your share of chores. Paying for a simple haircut is not some sort of charity, Takao. It is simply something one does for a family member."

* * *

"I wonder if we'll be in the same class this year," Takao muses as we wait to get close enough to the board to find our names on the class rosters. He's holding his bag casually over his shoulder, hyperextending his wrist backward. It looks painful. He makes it seem effortless, but I know he's been working on strengthening his wrists with light weights and many repetitions. He is always striving to improve himself.

He's constantly moving, whether from excitement or nervousness, I don't have the capacity to tell, but my height is to my advantage. I crane for a look, and see our names are both in class 3-B. Even though Takao's grades make him worthy of being in class 3-A, he's not there and it surprises (and pleases) me, even as it concerns me. I don't deal well with mixed emotions, so I simply compartmentalize the entire situation.

"Come on, we're in 3-B," I say, as he tries to weave into the crowd and get close enough to read the lists.

"We're in the same class?" he asks, like he doesn't believe me, but follows me anyway, with a maniacal grin stretched across his face. It is contagious and I automatically smile back.

"Tch, you think I would say something false?" I ask, clearing my throat and reining in the smile.

"No, but that's awesome! I asked my teachers last semester to recommend me for class B, but all I got were vague comments back from them."

"Why would you want to take a demotion?"

"To be with you, silly Shin-chan!" he smirks, turning his back to me and skipping toward the classroom.

* * *

When given the choice, Takao chooses to sit behind me, a decision that always causes odd looks from other students and from our teachers.

"You won't be able to see clearly around Midorima-kun's greater height," the math teacher tells him. "Perhaps it would be better if you change seats with him?"

"No, it's fine. We're not straight on to the board, so I can see fine," he says, and even though I am facing straight ahead, I know he is smiling by the sing-song quality of his voice. He knows I hate sitting in the back row of the class, like I was forced to do last year, but he knows I hate having potential…conflicts behind me as well.

"As long as your grades don't suffer," the teacher sighs. He is probably thinking we will be trouble all year long. I wish I could say that won't be, but I know better.

* * *

POV Takao

I was still warm after gym class, so I left my jacket on the hooks at the back of the classroom and took my seat. Shin-chan did not care if it was 37° out, he always put his jacket back on the moment we returned to class after exercise. It must have been some vestigial thought that he would stiffen up, even though today's class had been nothing more than a run around the field followed by stretching.

Shin-chan looked good in his uniform. The lines, the cut, the color all complimented him even though all the other students wore the same exact thing. I turned to watch him swing the jacket over his shoulder and confidently shove his arms into sleeves. I'd developed a certain fascination watching him dress the last few months and he has never disappointed me. As he slowly threads the buttons through their corresponding holes, his long fingers dance down his chest.

"Takao, you're staring in an undignified way," he told me. "Close your mouth and stop drooling; it's unbecoming."

"I don't need to be 'becoming' to anyone other than you," I joked.

"What makes you think I was speaking on behalf of anyone other than myself?"

"You're so mean Shin-chan."

He patted his pockets, confused, and I was momentarily forgotten when whatever was in his left pocket made an odd noise like a mixture of crinkling paper and wet cloth. He looked up at me, concerned, then put his left hand inside the pocket. He shuddered and his mouth fell open. His shoulders hitched like he was going to gag.

My chair tipped over as I rushed to him, and the general conversation of our classmates silenced as every eye followed me across the room.

Shin-chan's hand shook as he removed it from the pocket. Between two of his bandaged fingers, he held a piece of paper. It dripped red liquid on the floor.

"Blood!" someone shouted.

"No!" I growled. "Not his hands, anything but his hands."

"I…am not-t injured," Shin-chan stuttered. He cleared his throat and said it again. "Takao, I am not injured. There is something wet in my pocket. Help me."

I tried to take the note, but he turned sideways and shook his arm at me until I pulled the jacket off his shoulders. He switched the paper from one hand to the other, keeping it out of my reach by holding it high above my head. I could have jumped for it, but he was determined that I should not have it.

Instead, I took the jacket and turned the pocket inside out, dropping its contents onto the floor with a sickening plop. Our classmates formed a circle around us and the slimy thing that laid on the floor.

"What's going on here?" Tatsuhisa-sensei asked, pushing through the onlookers.

"Someone has decided to start the pranks early this year," Shin-chan said, his voice cold and emotionless. "I believe that would the insides of a dead animal. Yes, if you look closely, you can clearly see the intestines."

"This is unacceptable –"

"This is very predictable," Shin-chan said, raising his voice to be heard over the teacher. "I am ashamed of myself for failing to think this year might start off differently than the others. I apologize Sensei. This is offensive and childish, and stunts like these follow me around. If you will excuse me, I will clean this up and then go to the nurse's office to disinfect my hands."

"Yes, Midorima-kun, that seems like the correct course of action. Everyone else, back to your seats."

"I'll help him," I said, going for the paper towels.

"Good, good," Sensei said, already done with the commotion.

Shin-chan took the paper towels from me with his left hand and pushed me back with his right hand so that I would not get my hands dirty. He didn't look at me, but I saw he had shut down all his emotions. I'd seen last year's 'prank:' dog shit in his shoes, the shoes that are so large that they have to be ordered and shipped from Europe just to fit. Yeah, that was charming. And then there was the daily cleaning he did of his shoe locker to remove all the trash his tormentors piled in there every day. But this, this I seethed, was the first time they'd threatened his hands, and I knew that had to hurt more than anything they'd done before.

He removed the remains from the floor and bundled them up in a thick wad of paper towels.

"Take notes for me while I am gone," Shin-chan said, holding his left hand up and to the side so as not to further contaminate himself. The blood soaked bandages turned my stomach.

"You don't want me to go with you? I could wash out your jacket –"

"No, I want you to take notes, like I just said, Baka." He walked away with that stone-cold look etched on his face.


	25. Chapter 25

Author's Note: If you haven't read Gentlemen, Place Your Bets, this chapter and its characters will seem like an odd combination, but they really do work if you give them a chance.

* * *

POV Takao

"You received a message from someone I don't know," Shin-chan said, coming into the bathroom while I was in the hotel room's shower.

"Oh? Who?" I said, ducking under the spray.

"The name reads 'Pacifist'."

"That's just Kasamatsu," I said as I rinsed the last of the shampoo out of my hair.

"Is this nickname another one of those things I must pretend I don't know?"

"Yeah, it's a Point Guard Poker Player thing," I laughed. "Will you read me the message?"

"It says, 'Saint and I are in room 1412. Are you in for a game tonight at 10? I'll provide the snacks,'" Shin-chan read. "Who is Saint?"

"I've already said too much. Do you mind if I go out with the boys tonight?" I asked, turning off the water.

"Of course not. Enjoy yourself," he said. He sounded relieved that he would not be expected to be social as well. A message tone indicated I had received a second text.

"Who's Chatterbox?"

* * *

"…and then I kicked Kise across the room," Kasamatsu told us proudly.

From the frown on his face, I knew that whatever he was texting in response to the story, Mitobe was about to go all Mother Hen on him again.

"It's not like he actually hurts Kise –" I was in the middle of trying to make Mitobe feel better when there was a knock at the door.

"You fellas expectin' company?" Imayoshi asked, glancing up from his cards, his eyes slitted a little more than usual.

We all answered no and then the knock came again.

"Just a moment," Imayoshi said, and gave us each one more look.

"Shin-chan was going to bed, and even if he wasn't, he would have texted me rather than come here," I protested when he lingered on me for an extra second.

Kasamatsu got to his feet, but Imayoshi stopped him.

"I'll do the honors, you just worry about your turn."

All eyes were on the door as Imayoshi swung it open.

"Akashi Seijūrō, now to what do I owe the honor of having the great 'Emperor' grace my door?"

I cringed at hearing the sarcasm drip from Imayoshi's mouth. I couldn't see the smile, but I knew from experience that it had widened the moment he'd seen the anti-social little Point Guard.

"I heard that there was a gathering of Point Guards. I am a Point Guard. Thus, I thought it only right to make an appearance."

"Well, I'm sorry the wires got crossed somehow there, Akashi-kun. This here is just a bunch of friends gatherin' to play cards," Imayoshi said, making a sweeping gesture to include all of us. I wanted to hide under the bed before Akashi saw me, but I was frozen in my spot.

"Shūtoku's current Point Guard, Kaijō's former Point Guard, Tōō's former Point Guard, and I don't think I know you," Akashi said, his crazed yellow eye settling on Mitobe.

"You don't know the Center for your least favorite team in this competition? I think your spinnin' tales, Akashi-kun," Imayoshi taunted. His Osakan accent grew more intense with each word.

"Mitobe Rinnosuke, then. You have some large shoes to fill, don't you?" Akashi's smile grew, showing teeth.

Mitobe stared back placidly, as if he encountered psychotics on a daily basis.

"What do you really want, Akashi? No one here takes the thought that you want to be just one of the guys seriously. We're all pawns to you, beneath you, so why don't we stop wastin' each other's time and move it along so we can get back to our game."

"Aomine's was right, you are shrewder than you act, Shoichi."

"I wouldn't put stock in anythin' he says, but I'm no fool either way."

"Word has gotten around about this little…support group you seem to have formed. I don't care if you need to wipe away each other's tears as you lament about how mean the members of the Generation of Miracles are to you in general, or in particular," Akashi said, and turns his gaze directly to me, "but the other Point Guards in the tournament don't like the fact that you've taken to calling yourselves the Point Guard Poker Players, since the group isn't open to all Point Guards. I am taking it upon myself to speak to you on their behalf."

Imayoshi began to laugh. At first I thought it was just going to be a simple ha-ha, but then it turned into a rolling sound that bent his head and caused him to take off his glasses to wipe them down. Once he'd composed himself, he took a deep breath, looked over his shoulder at us with the creepiest smile I'd ever seen on his features, and then he turned back to Akashi.

"What school are you goin' to next year?" Imayoshi asked, and for a moment, I thought I saw confusion ripple across Akashi's features.

"I'm going abroad, to study in America. I'm going to George Washington University. Why?"

"Yokatta!" he chuckled again. "Now you'll have to just take this as my personal opinion, because I don't speak for anyone besides myself, but I am so glad I will never have to stand on a basketball court with your crazy ass."

"Shoichi, I am Absolu –"

"Yeah, yeah, absolutely fuckin' crazy, that's what you are. I feel bad for anyone who has to play against you, and even worse for anyone who has to play with you. America's a good place for you. Maybe your madness won't be so noticeable there, but either way, get the fuck out of my room," he said, and slammed the door in Akashi's face.

He didn't move for two or three moments, and the time seemed to drift as no one said a word or moved.

"Um, it's your turn," Kasamatsu told Mitobe who blinked three times, like he was waking up.

Imayoshi turned, his eyes partially open and his smile gone.

"Are you ok?" I asked. It was strange seeing his eyes; they were gray like mine, only a little darker. It was like seeing him naked. He took off his glasses and carefully cleaned them again.

"I either did something incredibly brave, or equally stupid. Which do you think?" he drawled, not looking at any of us. Mitobe put down his cards on the nightstand and slung an arm over Imayoshi's shoulder.

"I don't understand why ya'll are so afraid of that little shit," he dismissed, like he hadn't just been facing down a shark-in-human-form: Akashi.

"That was epic, but, um, I think I'm going to call Shin-chan and ask him to escort me back to our room. Is he still standing out there? Do you think he can hear us?"

"No, I watched until he left," Imayoshi answered.

"Are you crazy?" Kasamatsu finally shouted. "If, if, if…" he ranted, and exploded out of his seat, his arms flailing as he paced.

"Sit down, Pacifist," I joked, hoping to snap him back to his previous calm state.

"He's going to hold this against all of us, not just you, _Shoichi_," Kasamatsu said, trying to mimic Akashi's voice, but failing completely.

I texted Shin-chan to ask him to come get me, because there was no way I was walking out that door without his company.

[why?]

[Saint pissed off Akashi. I am scared.]

[And what am I supposed to do against an enraged Akashi?]

[I don't know, but if he kills me, you'll be sad, right?]

There was no response and I was so busy pouting at the phone that I didn't notice Kasamatsu reaching out for it.

"You're kidding me? You asked your boyfriend to come get you? You are pathetic."

"I don't want to walk back by myself," I sniveled.

My phone indicated a message, and I tried to snatch it back from Kasamatsu. He threw the phone to Imayoshi, who lazily handed it to Mitobe, who gave it back to me with a shrug.

[Akashi found the incident humorous. He also thinks it's 'cute' that I'm 'concerned about my shadow's safety.' Now that I have been properly embarrassed, I'm on my way to get you.]

Mitobe read the message on my shoulder and squeezed my arm. I looked up into his wide eyes and he pointed at his chest. Imayoshi was right, the longer you spent with him, the more obvious his thoughts.

"Ok, we'll talk Shin-chan into swinging by your room on the way back too," I said.

"I would have walked you back to your rooms, scaredy cat," Imayoshi scoffed. "You didn't need to get Midorima-kun involved in this."

"I love hanging out with you guys, I really do. And I appreciate getting together and blowing off steam about the weirdoes in our lives. I don't even mind it when you make fun of me, because I know it's all in good fun, but that little psychopath frightens Shin-chan, and that's good enough reason for me to want to pee my pants right now. You may not depend on Aomine, but I reply on Shin-chan," I said, realizing that was probably more information than I needed to give them, but what's said at Point Guard Poker Night, stays at Point Guard Poker Night.

"Forget that, let him walk back with whoever he wants," Kasamatsu dismissed as he continued to pace. "How did Akashi know about us?"

* * *

Thanks to Andarkness23 for their beta reading skills.


	26. Chapter 26

This chapter is dedicated to Scen Oliver

* * *

POV Midorima

We finish the first half in the lead. The winner of this game will go on to play Serin in the final, and the loser will play Razukan for third. Tōō is a very different team with Aomine as both ace and captain. His cooperative play is less aggressive and they have benefited from their loses as much as their wins. There is a rumor going around that he and Kagami have been recruited for the national team already. I believe that he has changed, but that makes no difference in this game. To honor his metamorphosis and to stay true to myself, I will defeat him.

"I think he's at his limit," Akira says, motioning to Takao where he is spread out on the floor, a wet terry cloth towel pressed to his eyes.

"Hey, don't talk about me like I'm not here," Takao shouts. "Just let me rest my eyes and you worry about yourselves." Takao is already passed his limit, but he will not let that stop him, that is why he is the heart of our team. Takao keeps his eyes closed until the team leaves the locker room. He sits up and sighs.

"How bad is it?" he asks, looking at me. His eyes are veined red, but the puffiness has subsided some.

"You'll make it," I tell him, holding out my hand.

"Right hand," he snaps, and only when I offer the other does he allow me to pull him off the floor.

* * *

POV Takao

As the final buzzer sounded, I dropped to my knees and prayed I wouldn't throw up before I left the court. All afternoon my stomach had been in knots. Compounded with the eye strain, I had barely held on to finish the game. Aomine was relentless, showing me not a shred of mercy, but we were victorious. I was so relieved that we wouldn't have to play Rakuzan that I didn't notice the hand reaching out to me to help me to my feet.

"Oi, don't ignore me," he chirped. I looked up into his dark features and grinned.

"Blacked out for a second," I said and took Aomine's hand. I needed stamina _and_ strength training before college; I couldn't keep relying on others to get to my feet if I wanted to continue being a worthy partner to Shin-chan.

Aomine slapped me on the shoulder and I couldn't hold it back any longer; I vomited onto the wood floor, chunks splattering on my shoes. Aomine leapt backward, avoiding the spray.

"I swear I didn't do anything," he shouted. I leaned forward, resting my hands on my knees and continued to empty my stomach. Court attendants and first aid got to me before Shin-chan, but only by a second.

* * *

The court attendants put me on a stretcher and carried me off to the first aid tent while Shin-chan held my hand the entire way.

There wasn't much they could do, except change out the wash cloths Shin-chan held to my neck while I emptied my stomach into a bucket.

"Here are his forms," someone said. I heard papers being flipped, but Shin-chan looked calm, so I didn't concern myself with what was going. It was only when I heard a dial tone, followed by the sound of ringing as the attendant made a call over the speaker phone that I began to feel a bit nervous.

"Yes?" came my mother's caustic reply over the air.

"Takao-san?"

"No, don't call her," I whined. Shin-chan tried to comfort me by wiping my face, but it didn't help.

"Yes."

"My name is Yoshikai Kiyoto and I'm calling from –"

"If you're calling to collect money or sell me something, I'm not interested," she interrupted.

"I'm calling about your son, Kazunari-kun. He's come down with an illness at the Inter High finals. We're calling to get your permission to treat him."

"Then why are you calling me? He's the Midorima family's problem now. They paid enough for the right to be troubled. It's not my fault if they didn't update his records, but the Midorima's have permanent guardianship of him. Don't call me again," she said, leaving only the harsh sound of the disconnect signal.

"I'm Midorima Shintaro and I've already called my parents. They are on the way," Shin-chan told them as I voided my stomach into the bucket again. I hurt from the scalp of my head to the tips of my toes and each time my stomach heaved, I felt like the muscles of my back were going to snap. Shin-chan helped me sit up enough to sip water from a straw.

* * *

Back in the hotel room, Otousan and Okasan ushered everyone out except Shin-chan. I spent half of eternity with my head in the toilet bowl, while Otousan bathed my back with a cold cloth. Shin-chan stood by the bathroom door. I could hear Okasan as she moved around, preparing the bed.

"How long have you been feeling ill?" Otousan asked.

"Uuuggghhh," I groaned. "I don't know, since this morning."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Otousan asked.

"I haven't missed a single game, not in middle school, not in high school."

"Well, you're going to miss tomorrow, so this was for nothing." Shin-chan's angry voice might have fooled most people, but I knew he was worried.

"Nah, I'll just take some stomach medicine and I'll be fine."

"Coach said you're off the starting line-up."

I vomited again, but this time it was just clear liquid.

* * *

POV Midorima

"Where's Takao?" Kuroko asks as we line up before the game begins.

"In the hotel room, throwing up," I answer. I don't want to speak about it, but these are his friends.

"Oh man, we heard about yesterday from Aomine, but we thought he was just exhausted. This game is gonna suck; I wanted it to be an all-out battle," Kagami says, looking truly disappointed.

"Don't fear, Bakagami. I will show you no pity," I promise. Mitobe holds his closed fist out to me. I've never seen this done before a game, but I respond and finish the fist bump.

* * *

It is the worst game of my high school career. Akira is being groomed to replace Takao next year, and as such, he takes Takao's place on the court. He is woefully unprepared to go against a team as high quality as Seirin and has less experience leading the team than I do. Coach says that Akira will function as a utility player. He says that it is my responsibility to play both shooting guard and point guard, as I know the game plan as well as Takao. The compliment and comparison should make me happy, but I feel hollow.

I palm the ball in my left hand, a trick I've developed after watching the Iron Heart play at our Sunday games, and lift my right hand, index finger extended, to call the play. Kagami sees this movement and the conflicting signals in his brain allow me to avoid getting trapped. I pass to Sasuke, and then move in to block Kagami from catching up to the play.

* * *

POV Takao

"What did she mean?" I asked Otousan and Okasan after I finished a can of ginger ale and two plain rice crackers.

"What did 'who' mean?" Otousan asked as he checked my temperature with the back of his hand against my forehead. With all the pillows propped up behind me, I was able to look him in the eye as I asked my question. He didn't look away or try to avoid my gaze; he just seemed sad.

"My mother. She told the first aid guy that you paid that you paid for the right to be troubled by me. What did she mean by that? And… she said you were my permanent guardians. Since when?" I asked.

They exchanged a silent looked between them.

"She would only tell me the truth when it would hurt more than a no more lies, ok?"

"You're right, Kazu-kun; it's time you knew the whole story," Okasan said. She made her way over to the bed and sat down on the opposite side as Otousan.

"Even though you asked us not to, I called your mother after she disconnected your phone. I wanted to hear her reasoning – mother to mother – and see if we could help," Okasan said. She took my hand in hers and lightly drew her fingers along my damp skin.

"What did she say?"

"She did exactly what you said she would. She threatened to take you out of Toyko and to make you work to support the family. Then she said outright that if she had a certain figure in her account, she wouldn't need to do it."

"So," Otousan said, picking up the story, "I went down to Osaka with the money. I met her at a coffee shop and when she saw me and the briefcase I carried, she gave me a look. I don't want to speak ill of your mother, but I knew right then that if I gave her money, I would have to continue to do so until you went away to college and were finally your own man. I offered her a deal. I told her she could have the money if she accompanied me to a lawyer's office and turned over her parental rights to you. She haggled a bit, but we came up with compromise that worked for both of us and we made the exchange."

"How much was I worth?"

"The amount doesn't matter because you are priceless," he said. He took a hold of my face and forced me to look at him. "Everyday you've paid us back in full with your love and your respect." When he was sure I understood him, he smiled and let go of me.

"No wonder she hasn't called me once since I visited Yukina for her birthday," I said. "Does Shin-chan know about this?"

"We didn't tell him. We'll let you decide if you want him to know," he said.

"Ok. I think I'm done with these lies by omission; they hurt just as much."

"We could say we did it for your protection, but that doesn't excuse our behavior. We should not have withheld this from you. Will you forgive us?" Otousan asked.

I screwed my eyes shut and dragged my free hand over my face. When I opened my eyes, Okasan leaned forward and kissed my temple.

"I'm all sweaty and filthy," I protested.

"Teenage boys are always sweaty and filthy, Kazu," she said with a smile. It was the first time she'd dropped the honorific.

"Mom, Dad, I'm really sorry," I said, biting my lip and trying, but failing, to keep from crying.

"For what?" Otousan asked and pulled me forward into a hug.

"For not believing you the first thousand times you told me I was family."

* * *

POV Midorima

The game ends and we lose by six points because I am unable to shoot three pointers and lead the team at the same time. It is my fault and I acknowledge that, for today, we are only second best.

"If he's better by next Sunday, we'll expect both you for game," Kagami says after we line up and shout at each other.

"I've been assured that he has a simple stomach virus. Either way, Shūtoku and Serin will meet again at The Winter Cup."

Mitobe hands me a piece of paper and looks at me hopefully as I read it.

_Please tell Bat that everyone from the Point Guard Poker Players hopes he feels better soon. _

"Am I to assume Bat is Takao?"

He nods and shrugs.

"He won't discuss the nicknames, but why do you call him Bat?"

He takes the paper back from me and scribbles in the corner: _Stands for Blind as a Bat. Ironic, ne?_

"Tch," I laugh. "You must be the one he calls Chatterbox then. I had my suspicions that you were Saint, but I doubted myself when Takao told me that Saint had pissed off Akashi."

Mitobe shrugs again. I understand this gesture to mean that I can think what I want.

* * *

Thanks to my Beta Reader, Andarkness23. You honor me, not only with your hard work on this story, but with your words. Thank you so much.


	27. Chapter 27

POV Midorima

"Dad," I say at the door to his study."

"Shintarō," he looks up, distracted from his medical journal. He tilts his head. "Are you or Takao injured or in trouble?"

"No," I say, confused.

"Ah, good. I haven't seen that look on your face in a while. Come in and tell me what's on your mind."

I sit in the chair across from his desk with my hands on my knees.

"The events of the past two years have convinced me that I am not suited for med school."

He laughs for at least fifteen seconds before he takes off his glasses and wipes them on the hem of his shirt. I don't know what to say, so I stay silent.

"I'm sorry Shintarō. I shouldn't have laughed at you, you're being very serious and I'm not honoring that. But really, I'm glad you finally realized that you're not suited to be a doctor. I've never wanted you to follow me out of obligation. What have you decided to study then?"

"Athletic Training."

"At Tokyo University?" It is the last place we had discussed. I've been studying so hard for its entrance exam all these months.

"No," I exhale. I'm afraid of disappointing him, but his smile does not waiver. "We've had another offer, Waseda University. They also offer a Sports Business Management degree for Takao."

"I'm glad you've decided on your own path, but you're not going to be a PE teacher, are you?"

"No," I say, barely hiding my chuckle. "It's like a branch of sports medicine. I have decided on it for one simple reason: I will need to have a fall back plan."

Dad's eyes scrunch, but he waits for me to continue.

"I've decided I want to purse basketball professionally. Me without basketball is as ridiculous a thought as me without Takao, but not everyone makes it. I may be hurt, I will eventually reach my limits, but as an athletic trainer, I can best prepare myself. Even after I can no longer play, I can still be relevant to the sport that I love."

"Do they have a good academic reputation?"

"Yes," I say. "I wouldn't consider them unless they did. I've looked over previous years' exams and with some additional tutoring, it won't be a problem." The test looks ridiculously easy in comparison to Tokyo U. The only part I am at all concern about is English proficiency. Takao will have to work overtime.

"Do they have a good basketball team?" he asks. Dad moves forward on the edge of his seat, he is encouraging and excited.

"They do. Takao and I met with their scouts twice, once after last year's victory at the Kanto Cup and again at the Inter-high. They are willing to take both of us on the team as first strings. It's not a strong school yet, but with the two of us, we'd be competitive."

"Scholarships?" With every question he asks and every answer I have ready for him, he knows that I am serious. I wonder if that look on his face means that he is proud.

"Enough so that Takao and I could live on campus as roommates and it would still cost less than it would to send just me to Tokyo University."

"You've thought this through," he says, nodding. "Living away from home will be difficult for you."

"Yes, but I am willing to modify my behavior for our future."

"This doesn't have anything to do with Akashi turning down the NBA offer, does it? Or Kagami and Aomine's acceptance onto the National Team?"

"Are those thing motivations?" I ask. "Certainly, but perhaps more so Kise's injury and his early retirement. If I don't do this, if I don't try, I will regret it."

* * *

With Takao's help, I pass the English section of my entrance exam. I pretend that my tutoring with Literature helps him as well, but I know that's probably not true. We are late for Sunday's game because of Takao's scholarship exam for the English Language Scholars Program. Neither of us complain though, because the funds he earned today will allow us to have a slight cushion when we begin college in April. His talent for the subject is impressive. He makes it seem easy, somehow, when English words roll of his tongue.

Today's game participants are Kagami and Kuroko, two freshmen whose names I didn't bother to learn, and Kiyoshi and Hyūga, who are on a break from college. Although the Iron Heart can still play well, he is no longer able to compete at our level anymore. Occasionally, he rotates in when he's not coaching from the side. We all drop the intensity of play when he comes in, as if by silent agreement, but putting limits on ourselves is a different kind of challenge.

After the game, Hyūga brings out a flyer and after much internal debate that he expresses in his every movement, he hands it to me. It's for a Shooting Guard Competition that the JBL is holding. It's an open competition to find the best student shooter to send as a representative from our country to an international training camp."Winners would receive a round-trip ticket to New York to attend training at Madison Square Garden and a scholarship of ¥50,000 per semester for up to four years.

"My coach and our senpais have encouraged me to compete," Hyūga said.

"You are a good shooter," I confirm.

"But you are the Generation of Miracles Number One Shooter. You should compete."

"Of course," I say, unsure of what a proper response would be.

"That's what I love, the ego," Takao chides, and slaps me on the shoulder. He has the perfect ability to cover up my awkwardness by turning everything I say into a joke to soften it.

The men on the court next to us have also finished their game. If their t-shirts are correct, they are Tokyo University students.

"Are you guys talking about the Shooter's Competition and scholarship?" the leader of the group, a Yankee with yellow hair, asks. He can't pull off the look as naturally as Kise and he reminds me of Aomine before his defeat; he is all arrogance and repressed hostility.

"Yes," Hyūga says.

"Which school are you from?" the Yankee asks.

"Keio, I'm studying History on a basketball scholarship," Hyūga says. I can see his hackles rise as the arrogant man walks into his personal space and spins a basketball on his finger.

Some of the man's followers begin whispering and pointing.

"What about you?" the guy interrogates me next without offering any information of his own. "Number one shooter, huh?"

I don't like his tone, so I ignore the question.

"Who do you play for?" Kagami demands. It is not necessary for him to come to my rescue, but I appreciate someone else drawing the bully's attention as I feel myself shut down emotionally as a reflex.

* * *

POV Takao

"You've got height, I'll give you that, but you're just a high school brat. Calling yourself the number one shooter is just ego."

"What position do you play and for who?" Kagami challenged, again. His face was as red as his hair.

"I'm a Shooting Guard of course and I'm gonna win that competition, so these brats need not apply," the blonde douche bag with attitude boasted.

"Is that the only insult you know?" Kuroko said in a low tone and we're all started as we realized he had been there the whole time.

"How about we play and see who has the best shooting guard? You've got five guys, we've got five guys," Kagami taunted.

I could see the physical change in Shin-chan as the bullying flipped switches in his head that weren't often flipped. Kuroko moved in closer to him, as he also knew about Shin-chan's history. Kagami followed his partner's lead and the others, while only recently friends with us, seemed to bristle as much from the insults as I had.

"Play you guys? What a waste of time," he snickered to his teammates. "You'd have to make it interesting. Let's see if you've got more than centimeters. Losers run through the fountain square naked."

"I'd pay good money to see that," I chuckled.

"Sounds good," Kiyoshi said. "I've always wondered if Midorima-kun's curtains matched the carpet."

Shin-chan's eyebrows flew up and the other team walked over to their bench and readied themselves.

"Oi!" Hyūga shouted at Kiyoshi. "What kind of crap is that?"

"Let them think we have no faith in Midorima-kun. It will be funnier when he proves them wrong," Kiyoshi responded.

"Hey you guys?" Kiyoshi shouted to the bullies. "How about we make this even more interesting. Let's limit the game so that the only person allowed to score is the shooting guard. The rest of each team can only assist."

"Tch," Midorima said and pushed his glasses up, then begun unwinding the tape from his fingers. The calm of control settled onto his features.

"Cool by us, but I think you'll regret it," their shooting guard said with a smirk.

"Takao-kun," Hyūga said, taking over as captain, "you'll be our point guard. Kagami you'll be our center, Kuroko will do his thing, and I'll support the best I can. Kiyoshi, you call plays from the side as needed."

The game was over almost as soon as it started. I threw in to Kuroko who used his Ignite Pass to Shin-chan who'd hung back in what looked like a defensive position near our own goal. It was a bold and ego-filled opening move, but as Shin-chan dropped into shooting form and the bullies laughed, he straightened into a full jump, and they stopped and stared.

The ball fell straight and true through the rim, the psychological damage was done. Kuroko and Kagami coordinated to back tip their power forward and the ball quickly returned to Shin-chan's hands. We were up six points before the game was a minute old. They tried to restart fast and aggressive, but I was expecting it and intercepted the pass. We kept the game an uneven runaway, with Shin-chan scoring approximately every thirty seconds. His shots were flawless and after ten minutes, or one regulation quarter, the other team admitted defeat. Their run through the fountain was gratifying.

* * *

Thank you to Andarkness23 for their tireless work in beta reading my work.

Also, if you are interested in what's going on with Akashi and the NBA offer mentioned in this chapter, please check out "Priorities."


	28. Chapter 28

This chapter is dedicated to Shards (from AO3).

* * *

POV Takao

I've had too many rice balls with candles in them for me to get excited about my birthday anymore, but after my demand to have no birthday celebrations last year, I was unsure what I had to look forward to this year.

Shin-chan insisted that I wear something warm. He tossed his Otousan's car key at me in a high arc, just as if he were shooting baskets. I had a license, but I have barely driven in all that time I'd had it. Shin-chan had outright refused to consider learning to drive when I'd brought it up on his birthday. He sighted his medications as 'troublesome,' but I suspected it was more fear than necessity.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"We have reservations; we'll talk about it on the way," he said and left the room.

* * *

When he directed me to turn toward the Shiba-koen district of Minato, I knew we were going to Tokyo Tower.

"They take reservations at the Tower?" I asked.

"We have a table at Club333. Tonight is live music."

"Cool," I said and my hands felt a little lighter on the borrowed steering wheel.

We took the elevator up to the observatory level, but before going into the club, Shin-chan handed me a small velvet box. Inside was a necklace that matched the one I'd bought him for his birthday. It was a prismatic blue.

"But my birthstone is turquoise," I say and even as I did, I realized how ungrateful I sounded.

"Traditionally, yes, but the modern alternative is blue topaz. I know that you do not subscribe to my beliefs, but I thought a matching stone could be for you, if not a Lucky Item, then a promise."

"What are you promising?"

"Forever," he said and pushed his glasses up. He took the box back and removed the necklace. I turned my back to him to look out over the city while he placed it around my neck. My hands came up to steady it. The view was mesmerizing; the colors were so crisp and vibrant even in the cold night air. I shivered.

"Oha Asa had good predictions for us today," he said, moving in to speak against the back of my head. "I was recommended to make things literal if I wanted to take our relationship to new heights. For you, the prediction was that a new vantage would show you the depths of my love."

Sandwiching me between him and the railing, he leaned in and kissed the back of my neck.

"I…"

"Come, our table is waiting," he said and took my hand.

* * *

POV Midorima

I give my name and we are taken right away to a table in the corner against the back window, the exact table that I'd requested. On the table is a little cream card with the words "Reserved Midorima/Takao." It is a tall, round two-top with stools. A spider web of blue twinkling lights scattered across the ceiling and a single candle are the only illumination. There is a string quartet playing on the stage, but we are far enough away from them that we will be able to converse freely. Moments after we are seated, our drinks arrive.

"Non-alcoholic pear sparklers," the server says. I swallow half of mine in a single gulp, while Takao takes measured sips. He looks incredibly uncomfortable and I begin to suspect I have made a mistake.

"What's wrong, Kazu?" He smiles whenever I call him that and now is no different. The song ends and there is silence.

"I'm nervous; I've never been to a place like this –" He doesn't have time to finish the sentence as the server returns with two slices of pre-ordered cheesecake covered in kiwifruit. The quartet leads the room in a rousing version of Happy Birthday and the crowd applauds. Takao looks like he will hide under the table, but I take his hand, and when I squeeze his fingers, he squeezes back.

"I consulted Yukina. She told me about your dubious history of birthdays and I decided this year would be different."

"It definitely is, already," he says, biting his lip. He worries at the cake with his fork.

"Kazu," I sigh, "if this isn't what you want, tell me and we'll leave and do whatever you want. You won't hurt my feelings."

"I'm a little… What did you mean when you said forever? You know, outside?"

I nod; Oha Asa is always right. He doesn't understand, but he is focusing on the right things and I will do my best to explain it to him.

"It means that I will never abandon you," I take my necklace in one hand and then without letting go of his hand, the two of us touch his together. "We are more than just 'partners.' I wish I could find the words to tell you how I feel right now, but I rely too much on you to know and that's not fair. I apologize if this comes out wrong, but you are beautiful and I've wanted to tell you that for so long, but I have been afraid that you would take that wrong."

Takao's eyes are huge in the blue light; there is a hope that sparkles behind his features, and I can't resist. I lean forward and I kiss him. The crowd applauds and even though I know it is for the music, I pretend it is for us and I feel bold even though he hasn't said a word.

"I love you, Kazu."

Takao relaxes by centimeters all evening and by the time we are ready to go, the cake plates are licked clean, and we have enjoyed three more pear sparklers each. I don't remember a single note of the music, but I won't forget a single glance, a single sound that Takao made.

* * *

He concentrates as he drives, so when I ask him to take the next exit, he puts on the turn single and changes lanes. It is not until we are on the road to school that he realizes we have taken the wrong exit.

"I forgot something in my locker, do you mind if we stop on the way back?"

"Not at all," he says. The clubroom is on the backside of the school and when he parks we are, of course, the only ones in the lot. He accompanies me and uses his keys to open our way, while I make sure the doors are secured behind us. He doesn't seem to notice the excitement I think must be clearly visible. Our last Winter Cup begins in a less than a week and once we leave school on Friday to take up our hotel accommodations for the tournament, we will never practice in our shabby home facility again. I have a promise to keep and as I open my locker, the supplies I had prepared earlier are exactly where I left them. I shove the bottle into my pocket and throw the towel over my shoulder in a way I hope looks casual and confident.

Takao's eyebrows fly up as he watches me stroll towards the court. The light above center court is never off, but the rest of the room is shrouded in darkness.

"Shin-chan?"

I don't answer, but I shed my jacket and let it drop near the bench. I toe off my shoes and pull off my socks. The clothing I chose for tonight is all easily removable. I am not wearing a belt or a tie. Takao is grinning as I take the towel and spread it over the logo on center court.

"What have you got planned, Shin-chan?" Again, I know that actions are better than my words, so I return to the bench and remove my glasses.

"Oh, Shintarō," he moans. I've made the walk from the bench to center court so many times that I arrive even though the whole world is a dark blur. I like to imagine that we are above the normal lustful behavior of teenage boys. After all we have slept next to each other every night since the first day he came to live with us. At the time, I'd asked my mother when we would buy him a separate futon and she said there was no need. When I persisted, she's said, "If you and Kazu-kun ever adopt a child, you will understand that a parents' happiness is equal to her least unhappy child's sadness." No one had ever mentioned changing the arrangement again.

However, there is an undeniable chemistry we share and as my hands roam over his back, I don't care if we act like horny fools. When he first suggested this locale, I had dismissed it, but seeing the disappointment in his eyes had made me reconsider and as his birthday and the end of our high school careers approached, it became the only thing I thought about.

I put the bottle of lotion into his hand. His tongue is in my mouth and somehow clothing seems to remove itself. I want to be the aggressor, but Takao is not interested in that and he guides me down so that I am kneeling above the towel with my knees spread wide. We haven't tried this position yet and I am already dripping when his hand wraps around my penis.

He chuckles and peppers kisses along my lower back before playfully biting at the meatiest part of my butt cheeks. He drapes over my back, sucking on my shoulder blades as he enters me. We haven't had sex in two weeks and this position is awful on my knees, but the noises he makes against me convince me that skinned knees are a very small price to pay.

"I can't…" he pants. "My legs are strong, but not that strong."

I reach back and feel his calves are strained and he is standing on his toes. I lower my hips, but he's already moving. He takes himself out of me and I don't know what to do, but he does. Takao slides between my still spread wide legs so that he is on his back underneath me. He guides me down and he is where he should be again.

"I like this position the best," he says. "I like watching you." I don't say that I want the same thing. I want to know what his face looks like when he is inside me, but I will not pressure him. His comfort is more important.

"It is good," I agree. "I like the way you touch me." His hands are always active and caressing. There is not a centimeter of my body that he does not know and he uses his knowledge to push me to orgasm first. My pace is second nature to him now and he thrust into me so perfectly as he finds his pleasure inside me. He quietly whispers my name as he comes as well. His hands run down my chest and then settle on my hips.

"When you're ready, lie down next to me, ok?" It always takes me a while to move off of him; I prefer the natural exit as he softens, but his request has me intrigued. I lift up and away before settling against his shoulder. Laying down, I can pretend we are the same height and I feel less freaky.

Forever," he says. The sound flows over his tongue. I can see the way his mouth moves to form the word even without my glasses.

"Yes, forever," I say when he is silent. He reaches a hand up toward the light above us. There is no way he can reach it while stretched out on the floor, but he tries nonetheless.


	29. Chapter 29

POV Midorima

I choose to wear my Shūtoku uniform because it is, after all, what I've worn for every game for the last three years even though, as of last week, I am officially retired from the team. Today's lucky color is orange.

I have not missed a single day of practice, nor a single untouched shot. My nails are perfect, and the hand massage that Takao gave me upon waking up this morning makes me feel spoiled.

I lace my right shoe first. Cancer's forecast was second for today and a Hello Kitty stuffed animal is my Lucky Item. Takao went out right after the end of the broadcast and found one dressed in a basketball uniform. She stares at me now with her vacant gaze. She will sit with Takao in the stands.

My cellphone bings, alerting me to a new text message.

[You don't need luck, you've got this, but just in case…] Included with the message is a photograph of an entire store's display of Hello Kitties. Nestled among them is a sign that says "Midorimacchi!" The message is from Kise. I don't reply, because doing so would be outside of my routine.

I almost walk out of the bedroom without my pendent, but a glint of red catches my eye and I slip it over my head. It falls against my breast bone and with its return to that place, I am ready.

* * *

The stands are filled with familiar faces. The entire Shutōku club, all forty-five members, has taken over the back half of the center court seats. In front of them, Serin's much smaller club sits. Kise and Kasamatsu enter and go straight over to sit with Kuroko. Kise is walking on his own again, but the limp is painful to watch. A flash of purple stops before Kagami and Kuroko. Murasakibara and his shadow, Himura, are here all the way from Yosen. Momoi drags Aomine in and, behind them, Tōō gathers.

The crowd quiets as Razukan's first string strolls up the stairs. The rabble parts for Akashi the Emperor. His presence makes me nervous, but I can't help that.

Takao runs across the court to me, hugging my Lucky Item to his chest.

"He's here," he pouts.

"Don't say such unnecessary things; a blind man would have noted his passing."

He pressed Kitty's face against my check, and then bumps his shoulder into my arm. I catch his hand before he can escape.

"What Shin-chan, are you nervous?"

"No, my medications appear to be working just fine," I say, adjusting my glasses.

"Then what's up?"

"What would you do if I kissed you right now, in front of all these people?"

"I'd kiss you back, of course, silly Shin-chan. Are you likely to do that?" His eyebrows fly up.

"Very unlikely," I admit. He smirks. I watch Takao walk away and up to a seat between Kuroko and Kise.

* * *

The competition begins with announcements, and as we are each introduced there is a varying amount of applause. I try not to compare the noise they make for me to anyone else, but I feel that the crowd may be skewed in my favor.

I know only three of the other competitors, Hyūga , of course, Sakurai from Tōō, and Reo, formerly an uncrowned king of Razukan. At least that explains Akashi's interest in the proceedings. I consider Hyūga a friend, at least this is what Takao calls him, "our friend," but none of us speak to each other.

The first stage of competition is free throws. Of the fifteen initial competitors, three miss the first shot and are automatically out. Sakurai holds out, shot for shot, until the fourth round where his shot, instead of falling neatly through the rim, spins around it before it wobbles through. His insecurity gets the better of him and he doesn't make the next shot. Two more competitor's fall away before the end of the stage. Ten move onto the second round. In the shooting order, I am third.

Hyūga and Reo both hold on through the second stage where JBL members actively try to block our shots. Hyūga's stamina suffers. In the third stage we cooperate with those same JBL players and Hyūga falls apart; he is a complete mess. He misses the first three shots, even though he lands the last four. By the end of the stage, I am left alone with three college students and Reo.

The final stage is an all and all battle, where every shot must be accomplished further back than the last. This is familiar territory for me. Technicians lay tape marks on the floor at increments leading to just behind the center. I don't need them. This is a basketball court and I am intimately award of every centimeter of the floor.

"You've got this!" Takao shout. I push up my glasses; my lips curve up.

My arms are tired. Lactic acid burns through my aching legs. It has been fifty-five minutes since the beginning of the competition. We've been on the court the entire time, but I am not at my limits yet. Takao is right, I have this.

Reo makes six shots before even his beautiful form falls apart. He blows the rest of us a kiss before he bows and leaves the court. Hyūga is right, he is annoying. I am not sorry to see him go.

When there are two of us left, a five minute break is announced. I head to the bench for a drink. For the first time since the competition began, I look to the stands, hoping to catch a glimpse of Takao. A sea of Shutōku orange greets me as everyone in the center section is wearing my colors, including the members of Serin and Tōō. Akashi and the rest of his team are pulling on Shūtoku t-shirts now that Reo is out of the competition. Signs are lifted that say, "Fight," "Perseverance," and "Midorima is a Shooting God!" As they see me look their way, every hand raises, clutching Hello Kitties.

* * *

POV Takao

Shin-chan looked up to the stands, his mouth gaping for a moment, before pushing up his glasses and looking away. The buzzer called an end to the break, but before heading back, Shin-chan looked our way one more time and bowed low. He spun on his heel and walked back to the next line.

Shot for shot they moved back, one mark at a time, until his rival failed. Shin-chan took the ball, stepped back three more paces, and settled into this familiar stance as if to say, 'I could do this all day.' However, the shaking in his legs was visible from here. I grabbed Kuroko's hand and held my breath as Shin-chan made the last, beautiful shot.

As it sank through the hoop, with no resistance, the entire room exploded in celebration. Kuroko pulled me up, Kagami pushed me toward the stairs, and finally, I realized it was over. I dashed down the stairs as Shin-chan's victory was announced over the loud speaker. Officials shook his hand, gave him a check and a trophy, and then it was done.

Shin-chan tried to smile as I approached, but I saw the fatigue in his labored breathing and knew his ramrod posture was hiding the fact that he couldn't move.

"Shin-chan," I gasped. He grabbed the back of my head with his left hand and pulled me into his chest, sagging hard and heavy onto my shoulder. "Are you ok?"

"Exhausted," he panted. "I don't know how much longer I can stand, but I can't make my legs move."

The Generation of Miracles and Kagami surrounded us, and having heard Shin-chan's words, they moved into action.

"We will carry you off the court, in celebration to hide your condition," Akashi directed. "Atushi, you are the only one who can lift him, the rest will grab a limb once you get him off the ground."

Shin-chan, eyes widened with panic and he almost protested, but Murasakibara could move fast when he wanted to, and Shin-chan was off his feet before he could utter a word.

They didn't take him far, just to the locker room, and when he was seated, he sagged forward. Akashi pushed me forward.

"I would start by massaging his right leg, he puts more weight on it," he told me. I was on my knees in an instance, unlacing his shoes.

Kise went to work on Shin-chan's shoulders, as I worked the feeling back into his legs.

"Shintarō," Akashi began, "You should perhaps work more on your endurance training in the weeks leading up to your trip. You cannot go abroad to represent us in such a pitiful state."

Sakurai appeared apologizing for intruding, but he brought with him honey and lemons as an offering. After three bottles of electrolytes and an entire lemon, Shin-chan appeared to recover enough to be annoyed by all the attention.

"Seijūrō," Shin-chan barked and all eyes swung to Akashi's face to see if murder was imminent.

"Yes?" His demeanor was calm, but I was glad I was between him and Shin-chan as I continue to massage his calves. I'm not sure what good I could do, but I was willing to die to protect him.

"I'm not going abroad to represent you or the Generation of Miracles," Shin-chan sneered. He staggered to his feet and pushed me aside. "I am Midorima Shintarō and I go for me, for my basketball, and for my future with Takao Kazunari. Nothing more."

I was floored, figuratively and physically, at Shin-chan's courage. No one said anything for a long moment.

"While I understand that my opinion is no longer relevant, given that proclamation, Shintarō, I am very proud of you and your accomplishments, especially your continuing ability to surprise me. Of all of us, you are the only one who has been able to surpass my expectations in this manner."

"Midorimacchi and Takaoicchi are together? Like a couple?" Kise asked, breaking the tension.

"You really are a moron," Kagami accused.

"No wonder Takaoicchi looks so natural kneeling down in between his legs."

* * *

Thanks to my Beta Reader, Andarkness23!


	30. Chapter 30

This chapter is dedicated to the Momoisexual Community

* * *

POV Midorima

"Thank you," he says, with an unusual blush on his cheeks.

"For what?" I ask, as we sit among our friends at the Ice Cream Palace to celebrate my victory. I have a small bowl of red bean ice cream in front; my stomach hasn't loosen its knots yet and it is all that I can manage.

"For doing this for our future. You were magnificent," he says, and bumps my arm.

"Stop that," I snap more than I mean too because my arm hurts so much. "These are our friends and we are no longer on the court."

He smirks and I welcome his lips on mine, even though everyone watches.

"Kawaii," Kise squeals. "Is my nose bleeding?"

Kasamatsu hits him with a menu and we all go back to normal conversations.

"How is your English?" Akashi asks. "I remember that was your worst subject in middle school."

"My unassisted scores are frighteningly bad," I admit. "I have depended too much on the rolling pencil and Takao's tutoring."

"I can help you practice," Kagami offers. "During our Sunday games, I will only taunt you in English." Kagami shoves another over-full spoonful of his ice cream sundae into his mouth.

"How come I was never invited to your Sunday games?" Kise pouts, and Kasamatsu hits him again. None of us mention Kise's injury.

"Why do you subject yourself to Kise?" I ask Kasamatsu.

"He's my best friend," he shrugs, "and I enjoy hitting him."

"Buy lots of snacks for me," Murasakibara says. He doesn't need snacks, if the monstrosity sitting in front of him is any indication. It is a vat, a veritable tub, of ice cream; it is covered in more toppings then I can name. It is even larger then Kagami's sundae and it turns my stomach.

"If you provide me with cash, I will bring you snacks," I promise.

Murasakibara forks over all the money is his wallet and then borrows more from Akashi.

"I have a basketball card that I would love for you to try and get signed," Hyūga pleads.

"Bring it Sunday, I'll make no promises." I will have to make a list of all the favors; in large and small ways, each one of these men has helped me get where I am today.

"Who's your favorite Knicks player?" Aomine asks.

"I've never watched an NBA game," I admit.

"What? There's no way you're going to MSG having never watched a game. Everybody finish up, we're going to my place to watch some classic games," Aomine says.

* * *

Most beg off, after all Akashi, Murasakibara, and Himuro have traveled a long way to get here, and there is only so much time we can stand each other's company. Kasamatsu makes up an excuse to hide the fact that Kise is hurting.

Takao and I, Momoi, Kagami, and Kuroko adjourn to the apartment, which is just a short walk from the Ice Cream Palace. Aomine's place is neater than I expected. As we all remove our shoes, Takao points to the slippers Momoi has waiting for her while the rest of us must make due in our socks.

Most of the living room is overrun with basketball memorabilia. The poster above the couch is a team photo of Tōō's final season with Aomine as the Ace. There are a series of signed basketballs mounted on the shelves above the comically large TV. Basketball magazines are piled in the corner, and all the video games stacked in front of the PS3 are NBA titles.

"The bathroom?" I ask, and Momoi directs me down the hall as Aomine turns on the game.

The bathroom is distinctively feminine even though all the towels are royal blue. A perfume collection decorates one side of the vanity; a brush with pink hairs caught in the bristles sits in a caddy with a hairdryer. Hair ribbons and bows occupy a basket behind the toilet tank. I look like death when I peer into the mirror. I finish my business and wash my hands.

The game that I am supposed to be watching has already begun and, as someone scores, a roar of cheers explodes from the living room. I take a detour into the kitchen where Momoi is arranging snacks.

"I've no talent for food, but I can carry a tray," I offer. With the two of us in the kitchen, food poisoning is a very real fear.

"Me neither, but this is all junk food. Even I can't screw that up."

"It is kind of you to open your home to us," I say.

"It makes me happy that Aomine has friends again. If I had to let everyone we've ever know traipse through the apartment to make him happy, I'd open the door and welcome them all in. Five actual friends is nothing."

"How long have you lived together?"

"Just these last few months. We're planning on getting married this summer." She offers me her hand and upon her finger is a simple blue stone set in gold.

"A blue diamond?" I ask.

"Yes, it was his grandmothers."

"I'm happy for you."

It surprises her that I mean it.

"What about you and Takao? That was surprising to hear."

I slip my necklace out from under my shirt; she picks it up off my chest to get a better look at it. She is the first person beside Takao and me to touch it.

"We're approaching two years, unfortunately I will be in New York on our actual anniversary."

"Two years!"

"When the situation arose, my family invited him to live with us. We have lived together for eighteen months."

"We all heard the rumors about Takao's father, and about how he went to live with your family so he wouldn't have to leave Shūtoku, but I never put any additional meaning to it. We've always assumed you were more straightforward."

"I am incredibly private, after all," I say, pushing my glasses up. She hands me a plate of rice balls and I take it into the living room.

Takao is sprawled over an armchair; Kagami and Aomine share the couch with space between them for Momoi. It takes me a second to realize that the chair pulled up from the kitchen table isn't empty, but is occupied by Kuroko.

I put down the tray and Aomine reaches for a rice ball without taking his eyes off the screen. Takao jumps up and pushes me into the chair. It is soft and I sink down into the padding and I can feel the warmth from Takao's body heat. Once I am settled he pushes my thighs apart and sits between them with his head on my knee.

* * *

I am indebted to the hard work of my Andarkness23 for their hard work as my beta reader.


	31. Chapter 31

This chapter is dedicated to AspergianStoryteller.

I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. I've been without internet for 48 hours and had to go somewhere with free WiFi just to post this.

* * *

POV Midorima

It starts out as a joke.

"I'm going to take a permanent marker and write 'property of Takao Kazunari' across your forehead. That way everyone will know you are taken."

"In English or Japanese?" I ask.

"Better be in English, just in case," he says, his lips drawn in and his head nodding.

"I'm not an expert on the language, but I have a feeling that my forehead will be too small of a canvas to fit that entire sentence," I say.

I stand before the closet in nothing but my underwear. I'm going through the closet looking for clothing that will be appropriate for the weather in New York. Takao is having fun at my expense, dressing me up in outfits and pronouncing them fit or unfit for my suitcase.

In general, Takao thinks my wardrobe is dated and too formal. When an outfit we create meets with his approval, he snaps a pictures, which he will upload to my phone so that I will not embarrass myself with poor clothing choices. While I pick out something else to wear, he folds the latest approved outfit and arranges it carefully in the open suitcase. According to websites, the average daily temperatures in New York in the summer is 26 degrees, so it will be slightly cooler there than here. He wants me to buy, and wear, blue jeans while I am in New York. He says they will make my ass look fantastic.

"Ok then," he stands, and puts his hands on my bare shoulders. "I'll write it across your back then." He traces the words in English across my skin. It tickles and I want him to continue touching me just like that, but he stops before I can say anything.

"Only there? What happens if someone approaches me from the front then?"

He twists around and stands before me, hands on his hips.

"That's a dilemma," he smirks. "I guess I'll have to write it here too, right above your heart." There is a marker in his hand, suddenly, and he scrawls his name in that spot.

"Did you write on my back as well?" I sigh.

"Of course I did," he grins. "But it's only a regular marker; it will come off in the shower." When I look in the mirror, I can see his name reflected back at me.

"How much does it cost to get a tattoo?"

* * *

POV Takao

Taboo be damned, once Shin-chan had made up his mind, it was only a matter of time.

"We'll be banned from certain hot springs and public baths," I tried to tell him.

"How many hot springs or public baths have we attended outside of training camps?"

"Lenders can reject a person because of a tattoo," I added.

"If I have to take my shirt off in order to secure a loan, we can safely say our situation has hit rock bottom, and we will have greater things to worry about."

"It will hurt," I said, pulling out my last good excuse.

"Tch," he said and turned his eyes on me. "No more than being apart from you for six weeks."

Ok, if he was going to get all romantic on me, I guess I had to go through with it.

* * *

We picked a parlor in Shinjuku run by three women and a gay guy. The woman who greeted us, disinterestedly listened to what we wanted. She gave us release forms to sign and took ¥60,000. Shin-chan had the money in cash, readied especially for this moment. It was a lot of money.

We're told to strip off our shirts and we were given a thin tipped marker. He carefully wrote the five individual kanji that made up his name on my chest. Another woman handed me a mirror and asked me if it was exactly what I wanted. It was neat and precise, almost like it was typed. It was a perfect representation of him.

"Yes, definitely," I told her.

I was handed the marker next and he sat down so I would have a better angle. I had practiced my four kanji all morning. He liked the loose, stylized version best so I did that. It curved slightly around the swell of his muscles. He refused the mirror.

"Is it right?" he asked me.

"I know how to write my name," I smirked.

"Then its fine."

* * *

An hour later, we walked out of the parlor with two matching bandages and instructions for aftercare.

"I can't believe we really did that," I said, as I sat across from him at the sushi place Shin-chan swears has the best wasabi in town. I didn't matter to me, I couldn't stand spicy things, but he was obviously pleased with the burn. I had a plate of eel in front of me and that was enough.

"Is it so unbelievable?" he asked, his chopsticks paused in mid-grab.

"How many eighteen year olds get tattoos with their lovers?"

"How many eighteen year olds already know who they are going to spend the rest of their lives' with?" he countered.

"We are lucky? Aren't we?" I asked. I held my free hand out and he took it, threading our fingers together.

"Man proposes, God disposes. We have made our own luck."


	32. Chapter 32

Dedicated to the readers of "Gentlemen, Place Your Bets."

* * *

POV Midorima

"So, this will be the last time we speak for a few weeks. This whole adventure is outside of your routine. How do you feel about that?"

I'm sitting across the table from my psychiatrist. Dr. Suzuki has been my primary mental health professional since I tried to kill myself at the beginning of middle school. He's young – mid-thirties – and my Dad picked him because of that. I stick with him after all these years, not because I don't want to rehash the past with someone else, but because he also gives me space and time to think of my answers, and he does not judge me for my silences.

"I'm terrified," I finally say. "I've never been on an airplane for more than a few hours. I've never been away from my family for more than a week. I haven't been away from Takao in almost two years."

"Takao? It's interesting that you put him last in that litany, but I can tell that his absence troubles you the most. Why is that?"

"Takao…acts as a buffer between me and other people. He translates the passive-aggressive things I say and makes them not so terrible. He makes me a better person by his example. I'm afraid, because of my poor English skills, that I will be unable to make myself understood and that I will say something that will offend or alienate my peers."

"You have no concerns with him being here alone, while you go half-way around the world?" I'm not sure what he's hinting about. I'm not the one with abandonment issues, but I know that his question is pointed to get me to admit something.

"He won't be alone; he will be with my family and our friends."

Dr. Suzuki jots down something in the little notebook he keeps for our discussions. He looks pleased with my answer.

"What are some of the things you can do to mitigate your worries about being misunderstood and offending others?"

"I can listen attentively. I can ask questions when I am unsure. I can be slow to speak, and choose my words with care," I recite the list of things that are already doctor approved.

"Yes, exactly. What else will you do while you are gone?"

"I will not use my words as a weapon. I will seek first to understand, and then to make myself understood. I will work hard, and follow directions."

"So tell me, why are you really worried? You know what to do, what not to do. You've had practice."

"But it all goes to shit when I try it in real life."

"Midorima-kun, what is real life?"

I am stymied by the question, and the way he is waiting expectantly for an answer means that he knows that he has tripped me up. I am usually so good at knowing the answers he wants, but this will lead me – us – somewhere I hadn't anticipated going. I have no pre-packaged answers.

"What do you mean when you say 'in real life'?" he prompts again

"Outside of my immediate family and friends. People who don't know me yet…"

"Yet?" he asks for clarification when I can't put the rest of the thought into words. I am annoyed and he knows it.

"People who don't know me, yet have influence over me. Teachers, other students, the team, the athletes I will be training with in New York. There is, in my mind, family and friend life – people who know me and make allowances – and then there is the real life, where I am held accountable for every action, every word – like I am here."

I mean it as a jab, but he doesn't react. He writes something down and then looks at me for a good long while before speaking. He is attempting to draw me out, but I know this technique, and I simply wait.

"Is one of those worlds more authentic to you?"

"Authentic?"

"Define the word in a way that makes sense to you."

"Authentic or genuine: family allows us to be who we are – realistic. The outside world forces us to conform to a wider truth."

"Conform?"

"What other word describes better the situation where I have to take drugs twice daily in order to function in society?"

"Do you resent the fact that you must take medications in order to function in society?" I don't like it when he repeats my words back to me as a question, and that momentarily makes me angry. I have to roll the words around in my head to make sure I answer him correctly.

"Resent is too harsh a concept. I wish they were unnecessary."

The chime on his desk sounds, alerting us that our time is up. It is has been a good last session, at least, I think so. I am no less worried about opening my big mouth and saying something arrogant and boastful, but at least I have contingency plans.

He hands me four prescriptions. The first two are my normal medications, the third is a six dose supply of an anti-anxiety medication for the plane trip, and the last is for melatonin, to help me adjust to the time difference. I don't technically need a prescription for the last, but he knows I am more likely to take the drug if it comes with official instructions.

* * *

POV Takao

While Shin-chan was with his shrink, I met The Point Guard Poker Players at a little coffee shop around the corner. It wasn't as good as Yami's, but it served well enough in the moment.

"Midorima sees a psychiatrist? So, you've finally managed to drive him insane, Bat. Congratulations!" Imayoshi said. His characteristic grin and narrow eyes would have looked sinister to an outsider, but I knew better.

I stood up from the table and pushed back my chair. Mitobe automatically stood up as well. I saw the panic in our mother hen's face, as he debated if he'd have a better chance restraining me or Imayoshi. I smirked at him and then bowed low and formally.

"Thank you, thank you."

"Speech!" Kasamatsu cheered.

"As the first of our little band to officially 'break' a member of the Generation of Miracles, I hope I can serve as an inspiration to you," I said. I knew they were as bound by the rules of our group as I was, but they didn't need to know why Shin-chan saw a shrink.

They gave me a polite round of applause, drawing the attention of the other customers. I sat down and licked the whipped cream off the top of my mocha latte.

Kasamatsu's cell phone played the opening chords of a Metallica song, and he stopped laughing at me long enough to check his messages.

"The Professor?" I asked. Besides having our own nicknames, we'd each bestowed one on our Generation of Miracles teammates as well.

"Yeah, he's still a pain in my ass," he griped.

_Is everything alright_? Chatterbox seemed to ask.

"He wants to meet for dinner. He's got great news to share. It's probably about that contract he was hoping to get. He was up for a huge job with a watch manufacturer," Pacifist told us, his eyebrows drawn down in a contemplative V.

"That's a good thang, ain't it?" Saint asked, sipping his bitter espresso with a tight expression on his face.

"Yeah yeah, great," Pacifist answered, unconvincingly.

Chatterbox placed a hand on Pacifist's forearm and squeezed gently. We were so used to our mute friend that none of us doubted the sentiment.

"I've never given up hope that Kise and I would play together again," he said at last, sighing.

"Is he able to play again?" I asked.

"The doctors say yes, but he wants to do purse modeling full-time. I just don't get it. It makes me so angry. Why waste all that talent?" he growled, pounding his fist on the table top. His empty cup toppled over. When he didn't seem to notice, or care, I righted it.

"So, ya won't believe the arrogant thang Humble Pie said the other day!" Saint said, changing the tone of the conversation immediately.

"Sorry," Pacifist mumbled. "What did he say?"

"He called to tell me the JBL gave him my old Jersey number. He said he'd wear it better than me."

"That's fucked up," Kasamatsu said. "What an... first he ruins Kise' basketball career, and then he says something like that!"

"I was there; it was an accident," I said, not understanding why I was defending Aomine.

"Nah, ya have to speak the language of the passive-aggressive Ace to understand that what he said and what means are two different thangs. I'll pay for your coffee if ya can translate it, Bat," Saint offered, smirking at me.

I thought about it. What would that mean coming from Shin-chan?

"Not knowing much more than what you've told us, I'm betting he's proud to be wearing your number, and he's going to work hard to do your reputation justice," I guessed.

"Bravo, Bat, I knew there was more in that pretty head of yours than air."

"How's Captain Obvious doing?" I asked Chatterbox.

The silent Center nodded vigorously.

"I still say it's not fair; he's got the lowest-maintenance Generation-of-Miracles!" Pacifist said.

"Quit your whinin' and tell The Professor ya'll meet him for dinner already," Imayoshi scoffed.

"Speaking about texts," I said as my phone vibrated, "My butt is ringing."

"If you wouldn't to keep your phone shoved up your –"

"Don't even, Saint. You know I meant my phone buzzed in my back pocket. Don't be gross."

He laughed as I read the text.

"Shin-chan's done," I said, and slammed back the rest of the too-rich mocha.

"Tell Socialite we're all rooting for him," Pacifist said, as I stood up to leave. I reached for my wallet.

"I got it," Saint smiled. "We'll be here for ya Bat. Once he's in New York, ya call us when ya get lonely, and we'll have a game. I promise, I'll even let ya tell your sweet stories if ya need too."

"I guess one or two wouldn't hurt," Pacifist scowled.

Chatterbox nodded and tapped his shoulder. _You can cry on me anytime_. I smiled at him.

"Thanks, you guys. You're awesome."

* * *

If you enjoyed this chapter, please check out "Gentlemen, Place Your Bets."


	33. Chapter 33

Dedicated to my friends and "family" over at **Ange and Neo's Hostile Takeover! **

* * *

POV Midorima

Kaori refuses to come out of her room, so I must say my farewell through a closed door. Takao waits outside with my bags as I say my goodbyes to my Mom and Dad.

Mom is incredibly proud, and she gives me a lucky charm from the local shrine. Dad laughs and says I don't need it, and I agree, but take it anyway.

"Work hard and do your best," my mom says, and kisses my cheek before fading back into the house to give us some privacy.

"Here." My father shoves a plastic bag into my hand as he looks away, his face red. He pushes his glasses up his nose. I open the bag and see a box of condoms. "You're a large man, my son, take it slow, and make sure you don't hurt him."

"Dad," I choke, and then clear my throat. I push my glasses up my nose. "Don't say such unnecessary things. I would never hurt Takao."

"I know you'd never do it on purpose, but I'm telling you, if that boy comes back here tomorrow with a limp, I'll beat the tar out of you when you come home."

"Dad," I sigh.

"Knowing you, you'll over-think the whole thing, and that wouldn't be good for either of you."

"This won't be the first time dad," I admit to make him stop this absurd pep talk. He cants his head to the left and then grins.

"You cheeky little bastard," he says, and pats me on the back. "I'm not sure if I should be a good father and be appalled, or if I should be an awful father and give you a high-five."

"We're not like you think, Dad. We're different," I say, not wanting to give away too much.

"That's my boy," he whispers as we hug.

* * *

On the train ride to Narita Airport Rest House, I shake my head, remembering Dad's parting gift that is now wedged into my pocket.

"Ok, so what's the great joke you're not sharing with me?" Takao asks.

I toss him the package and wait until he looks at me, his eyebrows raised.

"Those are from Dad; he said if you come home with a limp tomorrow, he will beat the tar out of me."

Takao turns very white; he looks like he's going to be sick.

"I will never be able to look him in the eye again," he says. "You didn't even bother to deny it, did you?"

"At least you didn't get 'the talk.' If you'd like to share the details of our sex life with my parents, feel free to do so while I'm gone." It is my time to smirk at him.

* * *

We check in to the room, and I let Takao drop the suitcase he is carrying onto the luggage rack before I shove him against the wall, my knee grinding in between his legs. After the split second of surprise fades from his eyes, Takao puts his arms around my neck and pulls himself up to wrap his legs around my waist. He is heavier than he looks, as he is packed with muscle, but I manage to bear up under the extra weight and stagger us over to the king-size western bed.

The original plan - to spend all day in each other's company to the exclusion of all others - hadn't been specific, but when I lower him down onto the mattress, I know that we are unlikely to leave this bed again until I depart sixteen hours from now.

His legs are spread wide, and that makes it easier for me to move between them. I lift the hem of his shirt and trace the lines of his abdominal muscles with my tongue. I've never been this bold before, and chuckles softly. I continue to lift the shirt, one centimeter at a time with excruciating slowness. I want each kiss, each lick, each touch, to be seared into his flesh so that while we are apart, he will continue to feel me there. I want to mark him.

When the shirt is simply in the way, he lifts his upper body and arms, and I pull it off. I kiss the tattoo on his chest just to the right of his left shoulder. It is so strange to see my name inked onto his body. He strokes the matching tattoo on my chest that says his name. They are so new, I worry that I will kiss his ink away, but that is a silly concern. I choose a spot at the center of his breast bone and I kiss him there deeply. I lick the spot and finally suck his flesh into my mouth. He purrs against me. After a few seconds, I release that spot and am rewarded by the dark red bruise that is left behind.

"How am I going to survive six weeks without this?" he moans.

"Tell me not to go, and I promise, I will stay," I say. This is the first time he's allowed me to be intimate without him pulling off my glasses. I can see him clearly, and as I challenge him with my words, I hear resolve in his.

"I want you to go," he says. He doesn't hesitate, not even for a second and this is what makes him so extraordinary. "You are the best Shooting Guard in the world; I want you to prove it. It's only six weeks. I will survive, and when you return, triumphant, your future, our future, will be assured. I know this; I know it better than I know my own name; you _will be_ a professional basketball player."

As I hang over him, the birthstone pendent he bought me swings, reflecting the ruby sparkle. His matching topaz one is resting on his shoulder. I right it, centering it over the mark I've made on his chest.

"Your belief in me will be my Lucky Item."

"Don't forget I packed boxer-briefs in every color so that you can always wear the lucky color of the day."

"Don't enable my obsessions," I grin.

"As long as you continue to be obsessed with me, I don't mind," he says while unbuttoning my shirt.

"Make love to me," I hum, as I rub against him.

* * *

POV Takao

The water was the perfect temperature to fall asleep, but with such a short time left, I struggled to keep my eyes open. I settled down with my back against his chest.

Shin-chan finally felt relaxed enough to lean his back against the tub, head lolled to one side. His eyes were heavy and closed. I only knew he was awake because he traced kanji on my arm with long, wet fingers.

"How much longer?" I asked.

"Don't fixate; enjoy the moment. The three separate alarms, and the wake-up call from the front desk, will come soon enough without worrying about them."

"Sorry," I said. Shin-chan kissed my temple. He settled down further, pulling us deeper into the steamy, hot water; he couldn't keep his knees and his feet covered at the same time. He pushed my head to one side with his chin and pressed kisses from ear down to collarbone. His arms wrapped around me, one playing with my nipple and the other sliding down my stomach to stroke me firm.

"I don't know if I can," I gasped.

"Then don't, just enjoy," he said, his voice husky in my ear.

I snuggled down, melting into the touch of his strong left-handed grip. His chin rubbed against the top of my head, and I closed my eyes as my breath became ragged.

"While I'm gone, when you do this for yourself, I want you to picture this. I want you to remember the feeling of my hands on you in this moment."

"Shintarō," I moaned his name.

It is the longest, slowest, sweetest orgasm of my life, and I came with a soft intensity that shuddered through my whole body.

"I've dirtied the water," I said, when organized thought was possible once again. The first of the alarms, my cell phone, chirped at us from the other room. We groaned; then we laughed.

Shin-chan helped me out of the bath, and I turned off the traitorous device. One hour was all we had left. In one hour, the plan was to part at the train station, him moving toward the airport, me returning to his parents.

The next alarm went off with thirty minutes to spare. Shin-chan silenced it as he pulled a sweater over a t-shirt he'd stolen from me. It said "glasses are sexy."

The last alarm and the wake-up call came at the same time. Shin-chan locked his suitcase and we stood their looking at each other. He nodded and I summoned up all my courage to smile.

* * *

After dropping the key at registration, we went straight to the station. His train came first and he shouldered his duffle bag and pulled the handled to full extension on the rolling suitcase. Business travelers flowed around us and, for a split second, I saw how much hesitation he was suppressing in those emerald eyes. He wiped all emotion from his face and swallowed.

"Nope, not like that," I said, and reached up and brought his face close to mine. Even in the open, in public, I kissed him like this was our final kiss.

"I love you, Shintarō, now go kick ass."

"I love you too, Kazunari," he whispered into my mouth as the final boarding call came.

"Of course," he smirked in a decent impression of my trademark gesture. He stepped back into the open doors just as they slipped closed.

I rooted my feet to the concrete platform. I would not chase the train like some kind of shōjo heroine, not even a little. I cried, not because he was leaving, but because I had to stay behind.


	34. Chapter 34

POV Midorima

I arrive in New York; the trip is humbling in many way, revealing among other things that my English is abysmal. It dawns on me in that moment of realization that Takao's talent for this language is even more impressive than my 3-pointers.

There are hundreds of people waiting just past customs. I'm good enough to know what my name looks like in English, that much I can brag, even if the foreign alphabet makes my head hurt as I search for the person who is supposed to be waiting for me.

I walk slowly through the area, reading each sign, while people solicit me for taxi rides. I am thankful that we've appropriated so many foreign words into our daily lexicon that I am able to turn them down and know what I am turning down.

The instructions that came by email are in English, but Takao translated them and that version is in my jacket pocket. I re-read it, making sure I haven't neglected anything. No, it says to wait here. I take a seat as the seventeen hours of constant traveling, including the layover in Toronto, catch up to me.

I pop one earbud in, and use my now defunct and signal-less cellphone as an MP3 player. Takao has loaded all his favorite tunes for me and the first one to come up on random is K-Pop.

A new group of people with signs replaces the first and a tall black man runs into the area panting. He folds over to put his hands on his knees as his chest visibly heaves. Because I am watching him when he looks up, his eyes lock on mine. He points at me and smiles. I know I appear confused and, just in case, I look to both sides to make sure I am the one he's interested in.

He saunters over to me, trying to hide the way he is still breathing hard and I stand to greet him. He is taller than me, perhaps as tall as Murasakibara. When he is within comfortable talking distance he holds out a piece of paper and I take it. It is a photocopy of the passport photo I had been required to submit. My name is written in English below it. He chuckles when I sigh in relief and holds out his hand.

"Konichiwa," he says.

"I am Midorima Shintarō," I say in Japanese. "Please take care of me."

He blinks rapidly, and then a huge grin breaks out on his face.

**_"Please God, tell me you speak English."_**

He speaks slowly enough that I can pick out a few words.

**_"English, a little. I am Midorima Shintarō,"_** I say carefully, like Takao has forced me to practice for the last three weeks.

**_"Thank God,"_** he laughs, **_"I'm Xavier Quentin and I'll be your guide/partner in crime while you're here for camp. Anything you need, any help I can give you, let me know, ok?"_**

I push my glasses up my nose.

**_"Do you understand?" _**

**_"A little,"_** I say.

**_"Ok,"_** he says, very patiently. **_"Come with me."_**

* * *

My guide has a small English to Japanese phrase book and he tries out a few things. We have a simple conversation on the way to the dormitory. He continues to search for a specific word as I enter my living space. I don't have to share this room, which makes one stress dissolve. The accommodations are simple; it has a western-style bed that looks long enough so that my feet won't hang off the end. There is a desk by the window and a sink by the closet at the foot of the bed. The bed is made up and there is a small pile of towels. My room is part of a suite of four such rooms that share a common living room and kitchenette. On my door is my name and an attempt at the kanji for what I suspect is supposed to be the world 'welcome' written across the Japanese flag. The doors to the other rooms have flags of their occupant's national origins as well.

After putting down my bags, I see that my guide is still with me, his nose stuck in the phrase book. I tap him on the shoulder and show him the indicator on my cell phone that shows I have no service.

**"_Where calls can be made_?"** I asked him.

**_"To Japan?"_**

"Hai,** _yes._"**

He beckons me to follow him, and he helps me buy a rail pass. We take the subway to another part of town where he negotiates with a vendor to purchase a phone that can make international calls and two hours' worth of minutes.

The phone isn't charged, so he takes me to a restaurant where we sit in the corner. He plugs it in while he introduces me to New York-style pizza. I don't have much experience with western food, only that which Takao has insisted I try; pizza isn't something I've had before. He orders for us, and I study him.

**_"Pepperoni,"_** he indicates the meat on the slice in front of me. I repeat the word, and then he runs through the words for cheese and soda. Every time I pronounce a word back to him, his smile grows larger.

**_"Good?"_** he asks as I take my first bite of pizza.

**_"Yes,"_** I confirm. It is a bit greasy for my taste, but the trouble he has taken with me is worth a little indigestion.

When the phone is charged enough to turn on, I dial Takao's number from memory. The time difference is fourteen hours so it is almost one in the morning, but I promised Takao I would call as soon as I was able. He picks up on the second ring. I put the speaker phone on.

"Moshi, moshi," Takao slurs.

"It's me; I've arrived."

"Shin-chan," he shouts. "I love you; I miss you."

"I love you," I say, knowing that my guide is waiting, but needing to say the most important things first. "I could use your talented mouth right now."

"Oi, phone sex already?" he chuckles.

I know I am blushing.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, now is not the time for that. I need your translation skills. You are on speaker phone."

"Ok, go for it. Just say what you want to say, as if he understands, and I'll translate."

"Hello, I'm Midorima Shintarō. Please take care of me."

I wait for Takao to finish speaking the simple sentence.

**"_My name is Xavier Quentin. It's really awesome to meet you_."**


End file.
